


Saints and Sinners

by serafina20



Series: Saints and Sinners [5]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 03:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11096253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: A series of misunderstandings leaves Commodore James Norrington in possession of a child.





	Saints and Sinners

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU version of my "Saints and Sinners" series. It takes place after [Freedom](http://archiveofourown.org/works/159864) and takes the place of the rest of the series.

So much blood. There was so much of it. James had seen men bleed to death before, but this... this was different. And not just because it was a woman; sadly, in his time in the service, he'd seen too many women butchered without thought.

But this... This was supposed to be life. This was supposed to be natural. Women did this all the time with nothing more to show than a squalling babe. But not this woman. Not this woman, who'd never been anything but trouble to James. No. She could not give birth without a spectacle. No, she must go out in a torrent of blood that soaked the linens and left her nothing but a desiccated corpse. 

Mary Black, may she rest in peace. Rich auburn hair, murky green eyes, freckles. She had been a very pretty girl, even James had to admit that. Now, her skin was waxy pale and splashed with blood. The hair was damp and dank with sweat, and the eyes forever closed.

After all she'd done, all her planning and suffering and scheming, she'd been brought down by a power greater than her own clever mind. And she had been clever, if single-minded.

James held no hatred for her. No anger. What was done was done, and he'd dug his grave as deeply as she'd dug her own. If there had ever been a moment...

"James," Elizabeth said from behind him. Her voice quivered and when James turned, he saw her trembling.

There was blood on her as well. A smear on her cheeks, stains on her hands, streaks down her dress where she'd wiped during the birthing process. Her eyes held a dazed expression, and she wrung her hands helplessly at her stomach.

He should enquire as to her well-being, he knew. She'd been in the room during the birth when he'd been oblivious to the occurrence. And this was Elizabeth; she'd never even seen a proper birth before. This had been a travesty.

"The babe?" he asked in lieu of anything resembling politeness.

"With the nurse. The midwife sent for a wet nurse when it became clear.... Oh James." Her hands flew to her mouth and tears started falling from her eyes.

Awkward, James stepped into her and held her stiffly. His mind was not on the woman in his arms, but on the child. The orphan.

"What was it?"

Elizabeth didn’t answer. 

"It's a boy," Will answered from the door.

A boy. "And..."

"And he will live." Entering the room, Will gently pried Elizabeth away from James and held her. "They are in the kitchen, if you wish to see him."

Grateful, James smiled at Will and left the room. Elizabeth, for all her goodness and strength of heart did not understand James's behavior in all of this. She thought him a fool for not denouncing Mary's claims from the offset. She knew him too well, but not deeply enough. 

Will was a man after his own heart. Will understood.

The child was squalling fitfully when James entered the kitchen. Querulous wails filled the air, refusing to be soothed by the nurse's shushes and rocking.

"You the father?" the midwife asked.

He blinked, tearing his eyes away from the child to the unfamiliar woman. The midwife, he knew, lived in the outskirts of town, within an hour's ride. He'd never seen her in town, only her assistants. It was possible she hadn't heard the rumors.

James did not answer her question. "How is he?" he asked instead, returning his gaze to the baby. 

"He is a strong one," the midwife answered. She took the child from the nurse and bounced him. "Strong lungs, strong constitution. Beautiful. He'll live a long and healthy life, mark my words." She placed the baby into his arms.

"I'll drop him," James protested, but he did not try to give him back. 

"No, you won't. Fathers always think they will, and I've never seen a babe dropped yet." She patted the child's head and looked up at him. "Any ideas for the name?"

He's not mine, James thought. I've no right. 

"Gavin." The name fell from his lips easily. "His name is Gavin."

"Gavin Norrington," the wet nurse said from her seat. She smiled at James, an admiring look in her eyes.

This woman James knew. Beautiful, with a dusky rose complexion, doll-like blue eyes, and golden hair, Mariah worked at a tavern nearby. She was, reportedly, of loose morals, but had a friendly and open temperament so that even the most moral of men found her inoffensive. Even James. They'd flirted on occasion, but neither had pressed the issue. 

He'd forgotten she'd had a child recently. Stillbirth. He'd sent the local doctor to make sure she was all right when he'd heard, and meals from his own kitchen to help aid in her recovery.

"Mariah," he said.

"One friend to another, Commodore," she said. "When I heard that it was Mary's child that needed aid, I came as soon as I could." She rose, straightening her skirts as she did. "I knew her, gave her work when she first came. I know the strange circumstances she's been living under the past nine months. And, James." She put her hand on his arm. "I feel honor-bound to make an offer to you. To... to relieve you of the burden, for I know that this child..."

"Is my son," he cut her off gently. "This child is my... my son."

Her mouth opened for a moment to protest--no doubt she knew a more likely suspect--but then closed it again. An understanding smile crossed her face and she nodded. "Of course," she said, returning to her seat. "He's your son."

* * *

Most events in life didn't have a definite beginning. They started gradually, quietly, and one didn't always notice that he'd been caught into something until he was already ensnared. There were always multiple causes for any one major event, and most people--not even the ones directly involved--weren't privy to the particulars of each and every event. Indeed, they seemed to fade and mix into one another until one was never sure what thread exactly it was that had started their progress to the final stop.

James traced the events that brought Gavin to his life back to the events on the Dauntless, the night he refused to allow Jack to pleasure him. It was not a logical moment to trace it back to. Jack had nothing to do with Gavin's conception, Mary's banishment from James's household, nor James's decision to take the child in. Jack didn't even know Gavin existed.

He probably never thought of James, either.

And yet, as illogical as it was, every time James looked at the baby's tiny face, he thought of Jack. Thought of Jack's delicate wrists and beautifully firm mouth. Thought of the way his hands danced in the air, painting fancies and dreams. Thought of the way his eyes gleamed in the candlelight, his lopsided smile, and unbalanced walk.

He thought of the look in Jack's face after James had turned down his offer back on the Dauntless. The way he'd studied James, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the punchline of the joke. 

And he thought of Jack's face one month after the Turner's wedding, when he'd blown back into James's life like a hurricane.

James sighed and shifted Gavin in his arms as the memory overtook him once again.

Everyone, it seemed, was surprised at Jack's absence at the Turner wedding. James knew that they'd all expected him to come, as foolish and suicidal as it would have been. In the three months leading up to the wedding, Jack had sent missives of sorts: baubles, letters, messengers, and the like to Will. They didn't say anything, exactly, about Jack's plans (much to James's relief; the last thing he wanted to do was force himself to ignore explicit directions to the pirate's whereabouts), but they obviously gave Will and Elizabeth both a sense of peace knowing their friend was safe.

The wedding was elegant, intimate, and small as befitting the social station of the groom. Elizabeth looked radiant, and even though James was resigned to the way things had turned out, he still looked at her wistfully, imagining what their wedding would have been like.

All three of them kept an eye out the entire day for Jack, but the pirate never showed himself. 

After the wedding, things returned to normal. Brown, the blacksmith, retired, leaving the shop to Will. Will and Elizabeth moved into the small house behind the smithy with James's former maid, Mary Black, to help Elizabeth run her household. Mary had been James's gift to them, and, in retrospect, James couldn't help but wonder.... There had to have been some other way to handle it, and if he'd done it better, maybe she would still be alive.

But back then, he hadn't even know. All he’d known was he needed Mary out of his home, and the Turner residence seemed the perfect place. Elizabeth had, after all, been born and raised a lady. She knew nothing about housekeeping. She could embroider, not sew and mend. She could make delicacies to eat, not meals. She could hardly dress herself, although the clothes of a blacksmith's wife were much easier to put on than that of a lady. Still, housekeeping was strangely a more foreign world for Elizabeth than sailing, so Mary was there to help her. James continued to pay her salary with a bonus for as long as she remained with the Turners; the girl was simply no longer welcome within the walls of his home.

As for himself, James continued to run the fort as normal. If he neglected to go running after Jack and the Black Pearl as he'd said, well, there was much to do. Ships to repair, missives to write, colonies to protect. And there were other pirates in the waters that needed to be attended to.

As much as the man haunted James's dreams, Jack soon became but the shadow of a memory during his waking hours.

And then, he returned.

It was almost one month after the wedding when Jack reappeared. James had gone to the smithy with an order for Will. The boy was making quite a name for himself as a sword maker, and James intended to see that he made a very good living off his considerable talent.

"I couldn't risk it," he heard a voice saying as he stepped inside the smithy. "And I didn't want to ruin your sacred day."

"I thank you for that, Jack. But Elizabeth was disappointed. So was I. I'm sure..."

"Will," Jack interrupted. "Twas better this way. You married your lady fair, I stayed free, and no one was inconvenienced by my presence."

Will snorted. "Inconvenienced," he repeated. "James Norrington would be only too happy to clap you in irons, even at the risk of ruining Elizabeth's wedding day. Anything to further his career."

James stiffened. The gall of that insufferable child. For him to imagine that James derived pleasure at the idea of having to arrest someone Elizabeth cared for. Arresting someone he himself...

"Now, now, me boy. Don't be uncharitable," Jack purred. "There's more to our dear Jamie than meets the eyes, mark my words. He'd no sooner ruin the fair Elizabeth's wedding day than he would his own."

"Right," Will said doubtfully. "But, at any rate, we'll never have to worry about that. Just make sure you aren't arrested while you're here? I'd hate to have to break you out of the hangman's noose once again."

"I promise you that I will do nothing to draw undue attention to myself," Jack said. "Now. Pass me the rum."

Feeling oddly hollow, James stepped outside the smithy. He felt betrayed. Not by Will; to tell the truth, he expected nothing less. They had, after all, been rivals for Elizabeth. Well, in a manner of speaking. James had almost won her hand, but Will had always been the keeper of her heart.

But Jack... Not that Jack owed him any loyalty. And he's spoken well of James, which was magnanimous. And yet...

He'd gone to visit Will and not James. Three months had past with nary a word, and now he was at the Turner residence. It was as if that night had never happened.

And, perhaps, that was the point. That night hadn't happened; James hadn't let it. If it had...

If it had, James wouldn't have been able to live with himself. So, perhaps it was better that the night had never happened, and that Jack was doing what he should be doing and visiting the Turners and not James.

Taking a deep breath, James went back to the smithy, this time making as much noise as he could.

"Mr. Turner?" he called from the door.

There was a brief scuffle inside, and then Will appeared. "Commodore," he said genially, although guilt lurked in his eyes and turned down his lips. "What a pleasant surprise. Elizabeth will be pleased to see you." Then he blanched and glanced behind him towards the house.

"I can't stay," James said stiffly. "I've a commission to you. A sword for young George Adams."

"Lord Adams's son?" Will's eyebrows went up.

James nodded. "This is an important opportunity for you, Mr. Turner. The more clients such as Mr. Adams you acquire, the more in demand you will become. Your work is very good, and..."

"And I could use the income to support my wife, yes I know," Will said, voice a little hard.

James smiled tightly. "I only want you both to be happy. If my help is not appreciated..."

"Forgive me, Commodore," Will said with a sigh. "I do appreciate your help. And, you are right. I may never be able to give Elizabeth the life she is accustomed to, but I can do my best to make her comfortable. And I do love making swords."

"It shows. Yours are among the best I've ever seen."

"Thank you, Commodore. Please, would you like to go back and see Elizabeth? I know she'd like the company."

"No, thank you. I must return to the fort."

"Come to dinner soon?"

He nodded. "Good day."

James went back to the fort and finished his work for the day. Gillette and Groves tried to entice him to join them for a drink, but James declined. After the day he'd had, all he wanted was to seek the solitude of his own home.

"You shouldn't be angry at Will," Jack said when James stepped into his bedchamber.

Startled, James stopped in the doorway and surveyed the scene before him.

Jack was lounging in a chair by the door, legs thrown casually over the arms as he sat sideways. He had the lamp lit and was engulfed in the glow, making him seem almost radiant. His hat, coat, and sword were resting across the bed. A bottle of brandy was open on the table next to him, and a book was open in his lap.

He smiled toothily at James, mischief lurking in his rum colored eyes. "Come, come, Commodore. Give us a hug." When James didn't move, he cocked his head and said, "Aren't you happy to see me?"

James forced himself to gather together his wits. "Should I be?" He stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him.

Jack shrugged languidly and turned the page of his book. "We have some unfinished business, you and I. I thought you'd be glad to be done with it."

"I know of no..." He stopped talking when Jack fixed him with a look. Then he sighed. "I grow tired of finding people in here without my invitation."

"I do apologize." He closed the book and rose. "Will isn't yet settled with the idea that you only wanted the best for her. And he's young; he doesn't quite understand that just because you're a lawful man, you can still be an honorable one." 

He was in James's space, and he smelled of the sea and of rum. It was a heady aroma, and James's head swum.

"I don't know what you mean." His voice didn't sound like his own. It was rough and graveled and full of desire.

Had he no control around this man?

"Of course not. Kind of you, though, to give him the commission after hearing him impugn you honor. But you should have heard him change his tune after you left." 

"After I did something to help him."

"Some people are remarkably self-centered, eh? Although Will is more centered around Elizabeth. You do something to help her, you make yourself worthy in his eyes." Jack gently caressed James's face with feather-light fingers, coming impossibly closer. "How goes your search for freedom, love?"

"How's yours for honor?" James shot back, trying to ignore the twisting in his gut.

Jack smiled. "I don't search for what is already there." He kissed James, hand snaking around to the back of James's neck, holding him in place as if he were afraid James would run.

There was nowhere to run to, and no reason to go. Everything had led up to this moment, after all, from the first meeting on the docks to their last on the parapet when Jack had assured James that he'd been rooting for him to win. The tension and the promises had built between them, waiting for the opportune moment to act.

"Don't be angry with me either, love," Jack breathed as his clever hands divested James of his clothing. "I had to go to them first, you see." 

"They're your friends, I understand." His hands were not as clever, and they fumbled and tugged awkwardly at Jack's clothing. He was continually distracted by the baubles in Jack's hair, and the skin that was bared, and Jack's mouth as it sought new places on his body, licking and nipping, spreading fire. "I'm just..." Better not to finish that thought.

"You're just the reason I came." Jack maneuvered him to the bed, mouth sucking a spot on James's neck.

He snorted and allowed Jack to strip his boots and trousers from him. A steady litany of "what am I doing" ran though his head, but it was drowned out as Jack's teeth scraped down his chest, sending trails of heat through him.

"So lovely," Jack whispered as he pulled James's shirt off him. "How do you stay so pale?"

James sat up and pulled Jack's clothes off. "How do you get so dark?" He ran his knuckles down Jack's sun soaked chest. "I often wear clothing while I'm on deck."

Jack grinned. "I'm not exactly a naked heathen on my Pearl."

"Not naked, at any rate." Gently, he touched Jack's lips, feeling the delicate bow shape with the tip of his fingers. "Why are you here?"

"Do you want me here?"

He nodded.

"Then why question?" Jack came to him, pressing his flesh against James's own. Their lips met, softly, and then hungrily. Their movements grew more and more frantic as the surged against one another, arousal building in them until they moved as one, with one mind and one purpose.

It was over too quickly. Much too quickly, but the past months had been hard on James. He'd not had the pleasure of anyone's company since Jack all those months ago, and the memory of Jack...

"Can I ask who else you've found in your room lately?" Jack asked after. He was spooned against James's side, one leg flung possessively over James's, his hand tracing idle patterns over James's chest.

"What?"

"You said you were tired of finding people in your room without invitation. Who's been in here?" He lifted his head and smiled. "Besides me."

James sighed and pet Jack's gnarled hair. "No one." He closed his eyes. "A maid who used to work here. She ... was waiting for me the night they formally announced Elizabeth’s and Will’s engagement."

"Oh?" Jack seemed intrigued. "Waiting..."

"Naked and in my bed." He grew hot at the memory, finding the girl under the covers, her red hair unbound and falling around her shoulders. She was well-endowed, and she knew how to display her assets to her advantage, giving even James a pause.

"Please tell me you took what she was offering." Jack sounded almost breathless as he imagined the scene.

"No," James said sharply. "Of course not. It was wrong. She was my employee and barely more than a child. It would have been..."

"Dishonorable, yes, I know." Jack kissed his chest. "It's a theme with you, love. Surprised I'm even here now."

James ran his finger’s down Jack's spine. "You're not my prisoner."

"Shouldn't I be? I'm still guilty of everything I was before." He lifted his head and gazed at James through steady eyes.

He sighed and touched Jack's face gently. "We've had unfinished business. And... I missed you." He felt foolish saying it, but it was true. He'd missed Jack and had felt... empty since the day Jack had tripped out of his life and back to the Pearl. If he was a fool for giving his heart away so freely--and to a pirate--then he was a fool. At least he was an honest one.

Jack's expression softened. "I've missed you too, James." He kissed James softly and combed his fingers through the hair at his temple. 

Their words renewed their passion, not for the last time that night. James lost count of the number of times he lost himself to the sensation of Jack's body against his, to the hair that clouded his face, the baubles that pressed and bit into his skin. Jack was a wonderfully generous lover with gentle hands and a wicked mouth.

It had been wonderful. They'd loved each other into exhaustion, granting James the best night's sleep he'd had in months. But, when the sun had risen the next morning, Jack was gone, faded like the night.

Only a small, carved figure of a bird in flight and a scrap of paper with the word freedom written on it remained.

In his arms, Gavin squirmed and let loose a squawk, drawing James's attention back from his memories.

"Shhh," he soothed, bouncing Gavin lightly. "Go back to sleep."

But Gavin wasn't having any of it. He let out a screech, his tiny fists waving in the air, eyes screwed shut.

The door opened almost immediately and Mariah entered. "You shouldn't be up, James," she scolded, taking the baby. "Gavin can sleep in his bassinette. You needn't stay up with him every night." She sat on James's bed and loosened the neck of her nightgown to free a breast for Gavin.

James rubbed his eyes wearily and watched as the woman took care of his son. "I can't help it," he said. "I spend all day at the fort, and when I come home...." His cheeks warmed. "I miss him."

Mariah smiled, her eyes softening. "And he misses you. Don't think for an instant this child doesn't know who his father is. He adores you."

"Nonsense," he said, pleased nonetheless.

"You're almost never out of his sight. Of course he knows you." She kissed the fuzzy top of Gavin's head and then looked back to James. "It's been almost two months, James. You're here every single night, up with him at every feeding. You do more than a real..." She stopped talking abruptly, lower lip caught by her teeth.

James said nothing. 

The uncomfortable moment passed. Mariah shifted Gavin in her arms, eyes on the baby. "You should go out, James. Go drinking with your officers. Find a woman, even if it's just for the night."

"And risk another Gavin?"

"Not every woman is as careless as Mary was. And, if you don't want a woman for the night, then at least consider the ladies being thrown at you right now. I know you had your heart set on Mrs. Turner, but there are other young women of standing in Port Royal, all of whom would make a good wife to a man such as yourself."

His heart contracted at the thought. Rising, he went to the bed and sat next to Mariah. "I can't," he said softly, running his finger over Gavin's head. The child's skin was so soft, and he was so warm. He burned with life. "Especially not now." Or ever. "He's too young."

Mariah blinked and looked at him, eyes wondering. "Mary.... Mary didn't deserve you."

"Mary never had me." James smiled as Gavin's face screwed up, eyes squinched together as he sucked hard at Mariah's breast.

The woman winced and tugged on Gavin until the fierceness subsided. "She got you to take him in."

"He's my son."

"No one else would have."

He smiled faintly. "I like to think that I only did the honorable thing."

"Oh, yes. The honorable thing. Now everyone thinks you tupped your maid and then sent her away when you were through with her. Very honorable, James."

"Would you have had me act any differently? Would you have had me condemn this child for the sins of the mother?"

Mariah put her hand on his cheek. "No, of course not. But you seem determined to reward the mother for her deceit."

"Mary Black is dead, Mariah, and her soul is out of my hands," James said. He put his hand over Mariah's and squeezed. "All I care is that my son has the best life he can, no matter where he came from."

"You're too good, James. Too honorable."

He laughed and shook his head. "Yes, well. It does seem to be my curse."

* * *  
"He's just so beautiful!" Anna Barker cooed over Gavin, bouncing the baby in her arms.

Gavin squawked angrily, arching his back and trying to break free from her.

"Thank you," James said stiffly, trying to be polite.

"Anna is just wonderful with babies," Mrs. Barker informed him, beaming proudly at her daughter. "Look at her! A natural. She'll make a wonderful mother, and this child does need a mother."

Anna blushed and battered her eyes at James. "He has your eyes," she said, as if she didn't know what else to say.

James smiled tightly and wished he were anywhere else. He'd take Isle de los Muerta. He'd take the Black Pearl. He'd take the Turner wedding, just not here.

It'd seemed perfectly innocent when Elizabeth had suggested it. Gavin had to be baptized, after all, and baptism was a time for a celebration. Since he had no wife to take care of the details, and she still had all the contacts, Elizabeth had arranged it all. She'd even offered up her father's house, since James’s was entirely unsuitable for large gatherings. 

She'd done well. They were in the ballroom, which opened onto the garden. Guests were milling around both, drinking punch and fanning themselves against the dreadful heat and humidity. Fragrant flowers bloomed in the air, wafts of lace and taffeta blew in the soft wind sweeping in from the sea. A small string quartet played softly in the corner. Dinner had been served, with James giving a speech to thank everyone for their support of his son on such an important day. 

The guests had smiled and clapped politely, their eyes sizing him and his child up, as if assessing damage. All they cared for was the gossip and scandal he’d caused, and when he'd attempt to marry again.

All he cared about was the fact his son had survived his first months and was, by all accounts, thriving.

The Turners were named Gavin's godparents, along with Captain Horatio Kirby and his wife, Amelia. Despite their lower social class, in the case of James's death, Gavin would go to the Turners first. Only if they were unable to care for him would he go to the Kirbys. Captain and Mrs. Kirby were lovely people, good, stouthearted, and loyal to the crown. James had served with Kirby for years and respected him highly.

But James was loyal, too. And he knew that, while the Kirbys would care for Gavin with all the attention warranted an orphaned child, it was Elizabeth and Will who would love Gavin as their own. 

The announcements were made, toasts were given, and then dinner gradually gave way to strolling about, talking with friends and getting a chance to see the Scandal Child up close.

All of the most important society in Port Royal had turned out for the event. Oh, they would have come anyway. James was respected and admired, after all. It was simply that, what with the birth and acknowledgement of Gavin, the fact he had a woman of loose morals caring for the child, and his continued silence on the entire matter, James's life was wonderful entertainment these days.

Scandal or not, James was part of society, and everyone who was anyone would show to an event in his honor. He was their commodore and on the up and coming list of young naval officers. His exploits at sea were gaining much acclaim even back in England. There was talk of him possibly becoming governor one day.

And to add onto all of that, he was young, he was handsome, he was in possession of a good fortune, and he also was, lest anyone forget, single.

And, thus, despite the fact he was a scandal, everyone was there. Especially if they had an unmarried daughter.

It wasn't that any of them were repulsive by any means. Elizabeth was hardly the only attractive woman in Port Royal. In fact, there were a few who were uncommonly pretty. And they weren't all simpering fools, like Anne seemed to be. Many of them could read and write, speak two languages, sing, needlepoint, draw, and play an instrument. Or so he was told. Many of them also seemed to be able to speak two sentences together. And, really what more could one want from a wife than good conversation?

Perhaps a modicum of politeness. James was trapped in a room full of overdressed women, all looking lovely and graceful and womanly, and the words that fell from their mouths were simply horrid. Oh, no one said anything to his face, but his hearing was quite keen. He'd heard snippets of conversation, speculating on his and Mary's relationship. He'd heard things said about him, how cruel, how indecent his behavior had been, taking advantage of a poor girl the way he had, and then expelling her from his house.

He'd also heard speculation as to his relationship with Mariah, Mariah's profession, and what she was trying to accomplish by getting cozy with him.

It was enough to turn James off from associating with anyone in Port Royal. The only ones who seemed to be behaving within any sense of Christian decency and forgiveness, as far as James could see, were the Turners, Governor Swann, and his own officers.

Anne glanced at her mother, who nodded at her. Looking nervous, she stepped closer to James. "They're beautiful eyes, Commodore."

Oh, dear Lord. He was trapped.

Thankfully, Gavin started crying in earnest then. His back arched in Anne's arms, and he screamed, face bright red. The scream pierced through the room, garnering some attention, but its most blessed effects were the fact Anne looked immediately discomforted, and it brought Mariah bustling across the room.

"Here, now, Miss Barker, I'll take him," Mariah said, gently extracting Gavin from her arms.

Anne bristled at Mariah as the baby was taken away from her, although, James did note that she looked relieved once Gavin was gone. 

Her mother, though, stepped into James and put her hand on his arm. "Commodore, I really must say something." Her eyes darted to Mariah. "I know of a woman in town--a good, decent, Christian woman--who is offering her services as a wet nurse. I could make the introduction tomorrow, if you want."

He bit back a sigh. This was the fourth time someone had made this offer to him, all right in front of Mariah, all by a women who wanted him to marry their daughters. It was growing tedious.

"Thank you, Mrs. Barker, but, no. Gavin is comfortable with Mariah, and I'm not inclined to make any unnecessary changes." He bowed politely. "Thank you for your interest, though." Then, putting his hand on Mariah's elbow, he escorted her away.

Immediately, he heard whispers starting yet again as people speculated their relationship, the scandal James was still ensnared in, and when he was finally going to come to his senses and marry a nice, respectable woman.

"And exactly what circle of hell is this, hmmm?" Mariah asked after a moment. She smiled up at him serenely, eyes dancing.

He relaxed just a little, grateful at her eternal good humor. "It was partly your idea," he pointed out. "I was simply going to have him baptized. You and Elizabeth were the ones who thought a party would be appropriate."

"And it is. He's your son, and you deserve to show him off."

"And do I deserve to be priced like a new treasure come to auction?" he asked archly. "Or have the woman responsible for the care and feeding of my child treated like..."

"A woman of loose morals?" she finished for him. "Honestly, what did you expect? I am what I am."

"You are..." He trailed off, frustrated. She was right, he knew; she had a certain and well deserved reputation in Port Royal. 

But that didn't change the fact that she'd been there the night Gavin had been born and was one of the few who didn't treat James as if he'd done what they all thought he'd done.

"Thank you, James," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He forced himself to smile at her. "I don't like the way they treat you, and I don't like the way they treat Gavin. My God, do they really think I'll ask them to marry me simply because I have a son?"

"Most men would."

"I'm not most men," James pointed out. He took Gavin from her. He was still fussing, but seemed a little calmer now he was away from the overpowering perfume of Mrs. and Miss Barker. "He has my eyes indeed," he snorted.

Mariah laughed. "He does, you know. Have your eyes.

"Nonsense. Mary's eyes were green, his eyes were green. They're nothing of me."

"Think what you like, James, but when he looks at me, I can clearly see you shining out through his eyes. Besides, Mary's eyes were a different color green than Gavin's."

"He's young yet. They'll probably change." Or, perhaps Gavin's father had given the child his eyes. Not that James was going to mention that.

Mariah shrugged. "I think it might be time to go," she said as Gavin started crying again. His tiny fists waved wildly, and he bawled, shaking hard. "You should stay. I can take him back."

"No, I'll come with. I'm not exactly having fun, and guests are beginning to leave."

"You're leaving?" Elizabeth said, approaching the corner he and Mariah had sequestered themselves in.

She looked beautiful, as always. Her dress was simple, but she wore it with a grace and elegance that no other woman at the party had. 

It almost made James wistful. But, then again, if he'd married Elizabeth, he wouldn't have Gavin. He was still wondering if the trade had been worth it.

In his arms, Gavin squirmed. One tiny hand reached out and grabbed onto James's coat and clung to him.

Yes. It was worth it.

"Gavin needs a break," Mariah explained. "It's been an overwhelming day for him."

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "No more so than for his father." She sighed and added, "You're lucky. I have to stay until everyone is gone."

"Do you want me to stay?" James asked, concerned. "I can send him home with Mariah."

"Well, that's up to you, isn't it? You can do what you truly want to do, go home with your son, and cause yet another wave of gossip about you and Mariah's relationship," Elizabeth said with a wry look at Mariah. "Or you can stay, fend off yet more advances from women you should be considering marrying but aren't, and be completely miserable. And let's not forget the fact that if you stay, your mood will be completely sour, you'll avoid everyone so you can stand and talk with your officers, and you'll count the minutes until this ordeal ends all the while resenting me." She smiled up at him sweetly, arms crossed over her chest in a most unladylike manner.

Next to him, Mariah laughed. "I dare say, Mrs. Turner you do know him all too well."

"Well, one does not associate with a man for nine years and not pick up on a few personality quirks. And really, James, why can't you at least consider one of these women? I know you can't be pining over me. You're too practical for that."

The corner of his mouth twitched as he said, "I think you underestimate your allure, Elizabeth. Your husband pined after you for much longer than a year. Do you think I am a more cold hearted man?"

"I didn't say cold hearted, I said practical. And don't try to tell me that your love for me was so deep and lasting that it still pains you to look on another woman." She met his eyes, head cocked. "I'd sooner believe that you'd fallen in love with Mariah."

He and Mariah exchanged glances. He had no idea where this was coming from, and he wasn't exactly sure he liked the implications. "I admit I'm fond of her, but that doesn't mean..."

"James," Elizabeth interrupted softly. "You needn't justify yourself to me on any account. You're an adult, and I want to see you happy. But I'd also like to see you settled. You didn't love Mary Black, you don't love me romantically anymore. If you love Mariah, marry her. If not, then think of yourself. Think of your son, and..."

"I am thinking of my son, thank you, Mrs. Turner," James said sharply. "I believe I will go with them. I'm leaving on a mission at the end of the week, and would like to spend as much time as possible with Gavin." He handed Gavin to Mariah and took Elizabeth's hand. As he bowed over it, he said, "Thank you for everything."

"It was the least I could do. For a friend."

He smiled down at her, a surge of affection filling him. "Yes," he said. "For a friend."

* * *  
It wasn't that he hadn't realized people would talk. It was what they do, especially in a town like Port Royal. There wasn't much exciting going on lately. A few encounters with an enemy nations, a few hangings of petty criminals who'd plagued the town, and one encounter with the real worst pirate James had ever seen. This man made Jack look like a bloody genius.

Well. Jack was a genius. An insane one, of course. A really a tiring one, but a genius. 

But that was besides the point. The point was people needed gossip, and James and his life provided it. He'd known from the very first moment Mary had announced she was pregnant with James's child that it would happen.

It was simply surprising how annoying it was. He'd gained a son and lost a community. No, he'd never been exactly comfortable with all of society, but he had his ambitions. And he had his position in society to think of. Now? He was fodder for all kinds of gossip and speculation, not to mention the incessant attempts at matchmaking.

He'd been safe from all that before. The moment Elizabeth had first come out to society, James had known that she was the woman he wanted. And he made it clear to everyone else, rendering him effectively taken. Governor Swann had been sensitive enough to allow the relationship to run its course without any interference, and it'd been a relatively easy courtship.

Despite the fact, of course, that the object of his affection's affections had been engaged elsewhere. 

Now, Elizabeth had been married for over a year. James was not married and obviously the town felt it was time.

James found it all very laughable. If he ever married--and he was beginning to think that marriage was something he couldn't risk--it wouldn't be a woman from Port Royal. And, if it was, he'd choose someone who'd arrived after the scandal.

He'd been over this time and again. There was no use doing it yet again. It was late, well after midnight. After returning home from the party, he and Mariah had fed, changed, and gotten Gavin to sleep before having a quiet dinner. Afterwards, she'd retired to the parlor and he'd gone to his study to prepare for his upcoming mission.

As usual, he'd lost track of time. When he'd finally emerged from his work, it was late, so he'd settled in with a glass of brandy to muse on his son. And to do his best not to disturb his son while he slept. 

There was a noise upstairs. 

His heart pounded suddenly as alertness washed over him. Abandoning his brandy, James rose and took his pistol from inside his desk. He walked lightly up the stairs, avoiding the creak on the fifth from the top, stepping over the loose board that groaned, and making sure he didn't knock against the lamp that glowed softly on the table outside Mariah's room. Checking to make sure Gavin was sleeping soundly and safe, James went to his room, where the soft squeak of tread upon boards could be heard.

One, he counted silently to himself, door knob gripped in on hand, pistol in the other. Two. Three.

He flung the door open.

"Jamie!" Jack exclaimed joyfully. His eyes dropped to the pistol, and his smile melted away. "Now that's not a way to greet your old friend, is it love?"

He exhaled hard and dropped the pistol. "Jack." Of course. Who else would it be? "What are you doing here?" He stepped inside his room and closed the door.

"Happened to be in nearby waters and thought I'd pay you a visit." He approached cautiously, his dark eyes watching James narrowly, obviously unsure of his reception. 

James crossed the room and set his pistol on the bureau. "I thought never to see you again. At least here." He shrugged out of his coat and hung it neatly in the wardrobe. Then he turned. "I thought that, perhaps, our business finished, you'd sail away to only plague me on the seas."

"I can, if that's what you'd like. Though, seems to me, there's more left that we need to... explore." Emboldened now, Jack went to James and placed his hands on his stomach. "Don't you agree?"

"Yes," James sighed, dipping his head down to Jack's.

Their lips met softly. Jack tasted like the sea, salt clinging to his full bottom lip and around the soft bow of his upper. His tongue was gentle, questing, questioning. 

"I've missed you," breathed James when they broke, no more than a whisper apart. His hand pressed into Jack's back, and he felt the welcomed hardness pressed against his hip. 

"Aye," Jack replied, and then he was back, only now their kiss was hungry, biting. There was teeth nipping at James's lips, his neck. Hands tugged at clothes, tore them, tossing them like dead leaves around the room as the tripped towards the bed, utterly graceless and completely drunk on one another.

Dear God, how he needed this. Needed Jack, needed this night. His life was a storm, and James was simply a ship, tossing helpless through it. Through the child he'd never planned for, the wolves who judged him, the carnivores who coveted him, James owned nothing of himself. Allowed himself nothing but duty and honor and respectability except....

Jack. Jack was James's favorite sin.

James fell to the bed, pulling Jack with him. The bone almost poked him in the eye, and he jerked his head away.

"I thought I asked you to remove that," he said, reaching to where it was anchored to Jack's hair.

"Sorry. Wasn't sure of my reception, so wasn't sure if it'd be worth it. Ouch!"

"Oh, it's only a few hairs," James soothed, rolling his eyes. He tossed the bone away. "They'll grow back."

"Still hurt." He grabbed a fingerful of flesh on James's stomach and twisted.

"Ah!" James couldn't help shouting at the sudden pain that flashed through him. He laughed, moving to retaliate, when he realized what he'd done. 

"What's wrong?" Jack asked when James froze, ears straining. "Can't take the..." He stopped talking as Gavin's scream bled through the door.

"Of course," James sighed, closing his eyes. Of course.

"What's that?"

"It's...." Rather than explain, James pushed Jack off him and went to the door separating his room from Gavin's.

Gavin's face was red as he screamed in his cradle. His fists waved impotently in the air, and he kicked hard to emphasize his displeasure.

"Shhh," James soothed, lifting his son. "There, there, it's all right. Father's fine, he was just playing a game." He kissed Gavin's hot cheek and bounced him a few times. "Why must you do this now?"

"Is there something you need to tell me, Commodore?" Jack asked from behind. His voice was near to frosty as James had ever heard it.

He turned. Jack was in the doorway, clad only in his breeches. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was looking at Gavin with a mixture of curiosity and displeasure.

"Jack, this is my son. Gavin."

"Your son." His frown deepened. "You should have told me you were getting married, love. I would have come to the wedding. You know how much I love weddings."

"I'm not married."

Jack cocked an eyebrow. "Really? How interesting." He made a show of counting on his fingers a moment before saying, "You know, it's about nine months since I was last here. Has a miracle occurred, James? Is he ours?"

"Oh for God's sake," James snapped. He jostled Gavin rather harder then he meant to, causing the baby to squawk loudly. "Sorry," he immediately soothed, rocking gently. "He was got in the normal fashion, Jack. Remember the maid I told you about?"

"The one you found in your bed, yes." Jack cocked his head. "You said you didn't touch her. Did you finally give in, James? Are you human after all?"

He sighed in exasperation. "No, I didn't touch her. I...."

The door opened, interrupting him and Mariah entered. "I'm sorry," she said, sounding rather drowsy. "I didn't hear him. I... Jack!"

"Mariah," Jack replied with a nod of his head, sounding more interested then surprised to find her in James's home.

James looked back and forth between the two of them, his surprise at them knowing one another momentarily overtaking his embarrassment at being caught by her in a state of undress. "You know each other," he said.

Mariah looked at him, a knowing glint in her eyes. There was a small, lopsided smile on her face, as if she'd just figured out a troubling puzzle she'd been working on.

And perhaps she had.

"Of course, James," she finally said. She took Gavin gently from him and bounced him gently. "He's come to my tavern before."

"Oh." Then, he realized the implications and felt a wave of heat wash over him. "Oh."

"I could say the same thing, mate," Jack drawled, still lounging shamelessly in the door.

"No," James snapped, turning on him. Then, realizing how that may be taken, he turned back to Mariah, and said, "Not that.... I think you're beneath me. You're a great asset, Mariah, a good friend, but I could never..."

"Dishonor me so, yes, I know," Mariah said gently. "You are, above all else, James, a gentleman. Thank you for defending my honor even against a pirate."

"Thought he was defending his own honor, personally."

"Jack, don't be rude," Mariah said as James blushed harder. "Or jealous." She touched James's arm gently and said, "I'll take him to my room and keep him there tonight. That way you can talk with Jack."

"Mariah," James said desperately, feeling as if he owed her an explanation, yet not knowing what it was he needed to explain.

"Tomorrow," was all she said. Then, with a nod at Jack, she turned and left with Gavin.

He turned back slowly, stiffly, not sure exactly what to do or say. He could not decide what was more humiliating: being caught with his falsely gotten son by Jack, who would never understand, or being caught with Jack by ... anyone. He could be thankful, at least, that Mariah knew the world and knew the depths of depravity men could sink to. If he'd had his way, of course, James would have kept her good opinion a bit longer, at least for his son's sake, but what was done was done. If she wanted to leave and go to where at least men were honest about their sin, well then, James had heard there was good Christian woman in town who might be willing to share her milk with his son.

That was, of course, if Mariah didn't talk.

"So, James," Jack purred softly, crossing the room in that gracefully drunken gait of his. "You've got some news."

"I suppose I do." He sidestepped Jack, who was attempting to pin him against Gavin's cradle, and went back into his room. His shirt had been thrown carelessly on the ground; he picked it up now and pulled it back on. 

"He's your maid's," Jack prompted when James continue in his silence, unsure of how to begin. "And your son?"

James sighed and turned to face Jack. "Understand I tell you this in the strictest confidence, Jack. I've told no one everything, although those closest to me have... assumed some parts.” He took a deep breath. “Gavin is not, strictly speaking, my son. I mean, he is not mine. I never lay with Mary, I was truthful when I told you that."

"So how did you end up saddled with him?" 

"I'm not saddled with anything, Jack. Gavin is my son and a blessing."

Eyebrows raised, Jack pressed his palms together and made an obsequious bow. "A thousand pardons. Most men.... Aye, but then, Jamie, you are not most men." The frosty, wary edge Jack had adopted when he'd seen Gavin melted away, and James knew he'd been forgiven. 

"Go on," Jack said, climbing onto the bed.

His tension melted a little. He knew he was in this deeper than was right, but the depth of his feelings still took him by surprise. "I wasn't sure how to handle the situation, not at first. I felt awkward at the idea of simply dismissing her without securing her a new position first, but was unsure how I would explain the necessity without being indelicate. And then an idea struck. Elizabeth surely would need someone to help her settle into her new life. She was raised a lady with servants tending to her every need. Now she was expected to run her household on her own. I decided that I would give her the use of Mary, paying Mary's wages myself, for however long Elizabeth had need of her. Then, once Elizabeth was settled, she could help Mary find another position."

"Handy solution."

"I thought so, yes. But very soon after I did this, Mary began telling people she was pregnant. And then, she began to tell people that the child was mine."

"And of course you contradicted her," Jack said. 

James gazed at Jack impassively.

"And of course you contradicted her, Jamie," he repeated more forcefully.

"I did not. I thought it best to simply ignore her and what she was saying. I knew there was no truth to her words, but I also knew that... by forcing her to leave, I'd cemented my guilt in the eyes of others. Denying that I was the child's father would only make me look like...."

"Like every other man of your standing," Jack finished for him. He sighed. "You fool."

James shrugged. "I didn't know what to do. I... I was damned no which path I chose. And it isn't as if I don't understand her position. She was desperate, she had to be if she decided to say it was mine. I couldn't marry her, I wouldn't marry her, but she said it nonetheless. I felt trapped. So, I continued to say nothing, and I acted as if I didn't know of the rumors."

Jack rose and went to James. Taking him by the hands, Jack asked, "So, then, how did you end up with the little one?" as he pulled James to the bed with him.

Bone weary, James allowed himself to be led, crawling into bed like he was a child. Jack stretched out, head resting on the pillow; he pulled James's head so it rested on his chest, the steady thrum of his heart calming the storm inside James.

"She went into labor, and it was rough. Elizabeth sent for me, and by the time I got there, Mary was dead and there was Gavin. The midwife assumed he was mine, after all I was there. Mary had no family, no real friends. No one to..."

"I'm sure the Turners would have cared for him."

"I couldn't ask them to do that. They want children of their own, and they had no real connection to this child."

"And you do?"

James smiled sleepily and kissed Jack's chest. "I have no complaints, Jack. You mustn't think that I've been unduly put upon. I love my son. He is more the blessing I could ever ask for."

Jack laughed and stroked his back. "You really are a wonder, mate. Not any that I know would take in a child that weren't his own, especially any men of standing. What about all that about serving others, eh?"

"I fail to see how claiming him as my own is entirely self-serving."

"So you're serving the community then? This is for crown and country." Laughing, Jack rolled onto James. His eyes were twinkling as he pinned James down, rolling his hips suggestively. 

"I'm raising a son who may one day take my place as scourge of pirates everywhere," James groaned. He hooked his leg over Jack's back, grinding up against him. "It's my duty."

Jack panted, head dropping to steal a kiss. "Ah, yes, I see. And I suppose you'll raise him to be as fearsome as you are. Cream-skinned," he murmured, licking said skin, "strong jawed," a light nip, "and too damn noble for his own good."

"Yes, that's exactly it." James arched into Jack's touch, eyes shuttered. He gasped as Jack mouthed along his stomach, going lower as he did. "I d-don't see myself as noble, you know."

"Oh, I know." Jack licked a ring of fire around James's navel. Then he lifted his head. "What about when you marry?"

James blinked dazedly, unsure of what they were talking about. Surely they couldn't continue their liaisons if James married, and though he'd be loathed to give them up... "If I vow myself to a woman, Jack, I must honor those vows," he finally managed. He raised his hand and cupped Jack's cheek. "I will tell you before..."

"Not me, half-wit," Jack chided gently. He kissed the palm of James's hand. "I can handle myself."

"And often do, I imagine."

He got a flash of gold for that and Jack rode his thigh gently into him, causing a star-burst of pleasure to explode behind James's eyelids. He groaned, fingers digging into Jack's arms. 

"I meant, what happens to Gavin when you marry? Have sons? What woman of your class--of higher, since Elizabeth was a bit above your station, wasn't she--wants to raise the illegitimate child of a beggar maid?"

James sighed, feeling himself wilting. "Congratulations on destroying the mood, Jack."

"I need to hear you tell me that you won't do anything foolish, Jamie, before I can truly get into a mood."

"What do you want to hear me say, Jack? That should I get married, I'll give my son up to the Turners? To his other godparents? To you?"

"Yes," Jack said simply. "I'll take him."

Shock settled heavily over James. "What?"

"I'll take him. If you get married and the woman won't treat your son the way he deserves, I'll take him."

"You'll take him."

"Yes."

"You'll take him." Something in James's brain must have broken. Perhaps he was dreaming. Or drunk.

Jack smiled crookedly at him. "Is there an echo in here, love?"

"You'll... Why?"

"Because he's your son. And if you get married, you'll keep your vow faithfully to your wife, leaving no room for me. I want something of you, and even if he isn't of your flesh, he's of your heart. I want that."

Touched more than was right, James swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. He couldn't say the words, he didn't want Jack to say the words; they were too frightening to be said aloud. And yet, this gesture said more than any mere three words ever could.

He swallowed again and closed his eyes. He hadn't confessed this to anyone, not Mariah, not Elizabeth, not even Gavin. He hadn't even really allowed himself to think on it himself, lest it become too permanent a plan, or he talk himself out of it. "I don't think I'll marry," he confessed.

"James..."

"As grateful as I am for the offer, Jack, I don't want my son to grow up a pirate." He opened his eyes. "And you're right. No woman would accept him as her own. All my property and fortune would have to go to my first legitimate son. I can't cut Gavin out like that. He's my son. And, perhaps I'm not suited for married life, anyway." He cupped Jack's bottom and squeezed lightly.

"I'm nought but a distraction, mate."

"I don't think you are, Jack."

Jack nodded. Bending over, he kissed James gently, then rested their foreheads together. "Aye, Jamie. Aye."

* * *  
"So, I'm standing there, telling the two fine lieutenants of my adventures, when I sees this figure falling from the top of a high cliff. It was a girl, you see, and she just plunged straight down into the ocean, fully clothed. And we watched her, and I asked if they were going to do anything, but, being the pride of the English navy and all, neither one knew how to swim. So it was left to me," Jack was saying in a low, hypnotizing voice that broke through the hazy drowse surrounding James.

He frowned, wondering who in blazes Jack was talking to when he heard the very familiar gurgles and coos of his son. 

Cracking his eyes just a fraction, he was greeted to an amusing sight. Jack was stretched down the length of the bed, facing James. His hair fell over naked shoulders, coins and trinkets glinting in the early morning light that streamed in through the window. Between their bodies was Gavin, awake and bright eyed. He was gazing at Jack in fascination, hands clasped together in front of him, bouncing up and down. His legs kicked as he babbled at Jack, drool easing out of the corner of his mouth.

"I agree, mate," Jack said in apparent response to something he believed Gavin said. "But most navy men are afraid of the water, for some reason. You won't be, though. No. Soon as you're old enough, I'm going to teach you how to swim. Anyway, so I dove into the water and saved the girl. She turned out to be Mrs. Turner, Miss Swann, then. And a right lovely lass she was, only not breathing what with the drowning and the infernal corset choking the air out of her. Anyway, I gets her onto the dock and take the corset off. And then, your father shows up, stick up his behind as usual. See, he'd been proposing to Miss Swann right before she leapt off the cliffs and was understandably put out that she'd gone to such drastic measures to escape him."

"Oh, come on!" James protested, opening his eyes. "That's not what..."

"Shhh," Jack hissed, eyes glinting with amusement at James. "Anyway, as I was saying. I had to rip the corset off, and she starts breathing right away. And then your father runs up and puts me under arrest. A right flirt he was, too. Taunting me about not having a ship and pulling my sleeve up so he could see my tattoos. Knew who I was, too, like I was an obsession of his." Jack reached out and ran a finger down James's face.

"I was not flirting."

"Don't listen to him, Gavin me boy. He was flirting with me, tryin' to get me to notice him. Worked too. Just 'bout sank into those pretty green eyes. Toyed with him a bit, made him think I was interested in Miss Swann, but I only had eyes for him."

The words touched James despite himself. He caught Jack's hand in his and pressed a kiss into his palm. "What are you doing?"

"Telling Gavin the story about how we met."

"He's three months old, Jack. He won't remember."

"Then I'll keep telling him until he is old enough to remember. Every time I visit."

"You're visiting again?"

Jack frowned. "Did I not make myself clear last night?"

"Jack..."

His words were stopped as Jack leaned over Gavin and kissed James deeply. "Jamie, my mind is made."

"If you were to get caught, I'm bound by law to see you hanged. I could allow the Turners to free you again--without my express knowledge, of course--but then you would have to take them with you. I cannot..." He closed his eyes, feeling as if the air were choked inside him.

"Love, don't make problems before they happen." He kissed James again. "Remember. I'm Jack Sparrow. And you're the only man who caught me that's kept me."

He shook his head. "Ah, but I wasn't able to keep you, was I?"

Jack smiled. "I'm here, aren't I?"

His stomach squeezed oddly. Unsure of what to say, James dropped his eyes to his son, who was staring at Jack avidly. "I'm loathe to leave him," he said softly, placing his hand on Gavin's round belly. "But I must. Duty and all." He sighed. "I've no idea how long I'll be away. I hope only a few weeks, if all goes well. But it so often doesn't. He'll be different when I return."

"Sorry, mate. Wish there was some way to help." Jack's hand joined James, rough, calloused fingers caressing James's own.

"Most people suggest I retire and return to England. Mariah even offered to come with us, provided I did not cut her off once Gavin is old enough to do without her."

"I can't imagine you would."

"I can't imagine my household without her," James confessed. "I hope that she'll still be here long after Gavin is grown. She has been a very good friend to me."

"I imagine so."

James looked at Jack, eyebrow raised.

The pirate immediately adopted a look of contrition. "Not suggesting anything, love, I swear. I was just making a comment."

"May I inquire as to your relationship with her?"

"You may indeed inquire," Jack replied. He ran a finger over Gavin's long lashes, causing the baby to kick his legs again in excitement. "He has your eyes, you know."

"I do wish people would stop saying that. It's ridiculous. He's not..." James stopped talking. He knew Gavin wasn't really his; he'd even told Jack. But to speak the words out loud in Gavin's presence would be too painful.

Jack, of course, was his usual self. "Don't see no one else here he belongs to. And the eyes in his head are the same eyes that looked at me with such distain and hidden longing on the docks that day." He smiled roguishly. "And on your ship after Elizabeth agreed to marry you."

James exhaled slowly and rubbed Gavin's stomach. "I knew it wasn't me she wanted, and I knew that, despite everything, there was someone on board who did want me. Not that I really wanted you to try and seduce me."

"Yes, you did."

He didn't answer. "Does Mariah know where Gavin is?"

"Aye."

"Did she... say anything?" James hated the tentativeness in his voice, but, damn it, this wasn't like going into battle. This was his reputation with a woman he esteemed highly, the only woman he wanted to care for his son. If she disapproved....

"Aye, she said a lot. Don't drop him, don't steal him, mind his neck, hold his head. Don't hold him too tightly, don't let him get cold, don't let him get too warm. Don't squish him. Don't roll on top of him. For God's sake, Jack, don't give him anything to drink, that's her job. If he gets wet, gets mussed, or gets hungry, take her back immediately. And if I hurt you, I will suffer the wrath of a thousand hells." He grinned. "Aye, she said a bit, mate."

James smiled wryly. "She is a bit protective over Gavin, although when she talks to me, she's normally trying to convince me to relinquish him. I mean, though, did she say anything about... what she saw last night? Us?"

"No. Why? What did you think she would say?"

He sighed, a great heaviness settling even more firmly over him. Picking up Gavin, James rolled onto his back and placed his son on his chest. "I don't know," he said, kissing Gavin's fuzzed head. "That she's disgusted by our behavior last night. That she's leaving. That she's taking Gavin because he does not deserve to grow up raised by such a perverted and sinful father. That she's shocked, that she's going to reveal what I've done. I can be arrested for this, Jack. And put to death. I don't want..."

"She won't, James."

"How do you know?"

"Mariah's not exactly lived the life of a saint, now, has she?" Jack asked pragmatically. "Don't see where she might have cause to think ill of you."

"It's different, Jack. Even if, by societies standards, Mariah's activities are looked down upon, they aren't punishable by death. Sinful, perhaps, but only because what she does, she does out of wedlock."

"And, at times, for a fee. Jamie, stop mincing words, it's not like you."

"Very well," James conceded. "Mariah's a loose woman, or was, and while many think her to be sinful and wanton and the like, nothing she did was against the law. What we are doing here, Jack, is. And I am not a pirate."

Jack shook his head. "No, you're not. But you're not a saint, neither, no matter how much you try to behave like one. You're not hardly the first officer to find his pleasure in another man."

"But on land? In his own home? With a pirate?" James shook his head. "If anyone found out, I deserve whatever punishment for my stupidity."

"Now I'm a stupidity, eh?" Jack did not sound pleased.

He turned his head, one hand seeking Jack's out while the other held Gavin safe against his chest. "No. The fact that I would not give you up, even knowing the dangers. That is the stupidity."

Jack's eyes glinted like warm rum. He leaned over James, one arm carefully placed over his body, propping Jack up so he didn't crush Gavin. Hair brushing against James's face, Jack bent over and kissed him.

It was a gentle kiss, sweet. Tender, even. At first. And then, as always seemed to happen, a spark lit between them, and flared until it seemed as if Jack would devour him, possess him, and sweep him away.

Gasping, James ripped his mouth away. "The baby."

Jack growled and sat up. "Can you take him somewhere?"

He huffed indignantly, but rose. He was clad in only his breeches, but the Navy was excellent training in dressing quickly. While holding Gavin in one arm, James shrugged into his dressing gown quickly and left the room.

It was still early in the morning, and Mariah was still abed. When James pushed open her door, though, she opened her eyes. "Is he hungry?"

James flushed and stammered, "I don't... I suppose..."

She laughed and rose from bed. "Ah, I see. 'Tis you who is hungry." When James's face caught real fire, she merely laughed again and shook her head. "I am happy for you, James." Mariah took Gavin into her arms and adjusted him against her breast. "Jack is a good man, despite the piracy. He's been a friend to me."

"You aren't disappointed?"

"That you once again prove you can look beyond your rank and social standing to see the person standing before you? Of course not." She cocked her head. "How long have you been involved with him?"

"Since before his hanging," he admitted, shamefaced.

Mariah nodded, obviously holding her laughter. "And still he came back for you. Well. It seems as if you two have managed to catch each other quite nicely." 

Gavin squirmed and pawed at Mariah's chemise, making hungry mewls.

"Well, seems the son is hungry as well." She flashed him a wicked smile. "Go on. I'll take care of him. And take your time. You're not expected at the fort for another two hours."

"Thank you," he said gratefully, referring to far more than her help with Gavin.

"You're welcome, James," she said, responding to all he didn't say. 

With a final smile, James left her room and went back to his own. He had barely stepped inside the room when Jack launched himself into James, mouth attaching itself to James's neck.

"Took too long," Jack muttered, biting down the length of James's neck. 

"I had to speak with Mariah."

"Is your mind all at ease, then, love?" He kissed a trail of fire down James's check, opening the dressing gown and sliding it sinuously down James's shoulders as he did so.

"Yes," he gasped.

Jack bit his nipple, sending a bolt like cannon fire through him. It rushed through James's body, striking deep inside him, twisting his insides in sweet agony. Sweat beaded along James's skin, and his fingers scrabbled helplessly at the wood paneled door behind him. His cock rose, pressing against his thin breeches, aching for Jack's touch, but he lacked the words to articulate his need. Jack's magic fingers drifted elegantly over his skin, painting patterns, raising gooseflesh, turning James from man to into a being of pure sensation.

"Perfect," Jack growled. He yanked James's breeches down, freeing his cock. "Perfect," he repeated, running his rough, calloused hand over the sensitive skin. 

James cried out, his head banging into the door. When Jack's mouth closed around him, he groaned, knees turning to water. Jack had such a clever mouth, clever at words and clever when wrapped around James. His tongue worked wonders, stroking and caressing, teasing, working James to greater and greater heights.

Despite their night together, James climaxed quickly. He poured into Jack's mouth with an inarticulate cry. His eyes were screwed tight, and red bursts like fire exploded behind his eyelids. 

"I love watching you do that," purred Jack. He stroked James's softening member, a wicked smile on his damp lips.

James melted into a puddle next to Jack, drawing him into his arms. "As do I," he whispered into Jack's lips. He kissed Jack deeply, tasting himself on Jack's tongue. "How much longer can you stay?" he asked, stroking Jack through his breeches.

"I should leave before full sun-up. Maybe another hour." He placed a kiss on James's neck. "I'll be back tonight."

"Jack..."

"I've got other people beside you to visit you know." He was breathing heavily, straining against James's hand. "And we two live in the night."

"And Gavin?" he asked, slipping his hand beneath the tented fabric of Jack's breeches. "Where does Gavin exist in your life?" Because he was curious. Jack had asked for him, had gotten him from Mariah, and had seemed determined to tell the tale of how they'd met. He was of James's heart, and James wanted to know...

"Gavin," Jack replied, face twisted in pleasure, "Gavin lives between us. Between the shadows of the night and the brightness of the day. There, he's ours."

"Then there is where we will always meet."

* * *

The sun finally broke over the horizon to hang low in the morning sky. Light spilled into James's room, splashing across his face. 

He stirred, eyes tightening. One arm reached out, searching for the warm body who'd kept him company the night before. Found only empty space.

James opened his eyes to find himself alone. Jack was gone, as he needed to be, of course. He knew this. Expected it. Had already been surprised twice: once by his reappearance and once by waking to find Jack and his son together. 

Still. There was a twinge, just above his stomach. In his chest. Loneliness. Regret. Longing.

On the table was a small stone, like one of the baubles in Jack's hair. He picked it up and found an etching of a moon and star on it. A small hole had been ground through the stone.

He smiled. Perhaps he could not adorn his hair as the pirate did, but he could keep this bauble close by. The hawk left last time was in his study, on top of his globe. This was small enough to keep closer.

Three days passed swiftly. Final preparations were made. The ship was stocked, crew readied.

And then the day came. The sun peeked over the horizon to find James awake and dressed already. He sat in Gavin's nursery, gazing at his sleeping son.

Never had he felt like this. Since he’d been a child, James had longed to be at sea. Longed for the wind against his face. The tang of salt in the air. The swift movement that was the closest he would ever get to flying. It's where he belonged. Where his heart and soul were.

Until now. Until one tiny being was thrust into his life.

One little boy, with downy wisps of hair. With eyes as green as the sea. With full cheeks and a full bow in his lips. Tiny hands and feet. So delicate. So fragile.

So very loved.

It was impossible to think of leaving him. And yet, he must. Because, as he'd told Jack so long ago, he served others, and not just himself. And it wasn't as if Gavin would know. Would understand.

Dear God, he was just a child. He wouldn't understand. He'd think James had abandoned him.

James took a deep breath. Rubbed his eyes. 

Such thinking would only lead to madness. Gavin would be fine. He had Mariah. And the Turners. And, perhaps, Jack, should he choose to come back to check on the child.

There was a knock at the door. 

He said nothing.

The door creaked open. Soft footsteps sounded on the floor. The light, delicate gait of his housemate.

A small hand on his shoulder. "He will be fine, James."

He nodded. Frowned. "He will forget me."

"Never."

"He will. He is young. Out of sight, out of mind." 

She came around and knelt at his feet. "Very well. Then, when you come back, he'll remember you. He'll still be young, you'll shower him with love as you do now, and he'll become accustomed to you once more. He will remember how he loves you. His father." Mariah reached up and touched his cheek. 

"I never should have taken him in," he said. "It was the height of selfishness. To condemn him to a life with an absent father. I should have.. said no. Admit that... Allow the Turners to raise him."

Expressive blue eyes rolled. "And then you'd be down on yourself for not taking responsibility. For forcing the Tuners to raise a child not their own. Every time anything happened to Gavin, you'd blame yourself. The slightest illness, a scratch, all your fault for not doing what you perceived to be an honorable thing."

She was right. 

James smiled wryly. "I'm impossible to live with, aren't I?"

"Not impossible, no. But predictable in your need to take the weight of the world on your shoulders." She sat back on her heels. "You managed well enough with a sailor father."

"Yes. But I had a mother." He realized what he said almost immediately. Horror blossomed in his chest, and he moved forward as Mariah pulled away. Caught her hands. "I'm sorry," he said urgently. "I didn't mean.... Of course, Gavin has you. He loves you. You're the only mother he's ever known, and words cannot express how much your... everything that you do has meant to me. Mariah, I..."

"Calm yourself, James." She sat up again, and with him bent forward, their heads were level. "I understand what you meant. There is a difference between a mother and... whatever I've become. More than a wet nurse, less than, well. A mother."

He swallowed, feeling as though his heart were in his throat. "You are more his mother than anyone else in the world. And I thank God every day for you."

Her cheeks colored and she looked away. "Thank you, James."

James cleared his throat. His hands tightened momentarily, then he pulled away. Stood. "I should be off. We leave in a few hours."

Mariah stood as well. "Off with the tide." She went to the cradle and put her hand on the side. "We'll be out to say farewell." She looked at him. "Everything will be fine, James. No child every died from missing his father. And no father has died of the same, either."

"Of course." He offered her a smile, then went to the cradle. Bending over, he pressed his lips to Gavin's warm cheek. Stroked his forehead. "Good-bye, little man. You take care of the city while I'm gone, right?" He slipped his finger into Gavin's fist. Smiled when it was lifted to Gavin's mouth to suck on. "And don't worry Mariah or your Aunt Elizabeth too much. Understand?" 

Gavin sucked particularly hard on James's finger. Kicked his feet.

James smiled and kissed him again. "Good boy."

* * *

"And then they made me their chief," Jack said.

Gavin squealed loudly. Kicked his feet, his chubby little hands reaching out to grab at Jack's hair.

Elizabeth laughed when the pirate grimaced. "How many times do we have to tell you not to hang over him like that?" she asked. She shook her head, setting the stone she was using to sharpen the sword on the table. She picked up a cloth and began polishing. 

"One more time, apparently." Jack gave up the struggle to free his hair and instead picked the child up. One hand went to his back and he lightly danced Gavin around the room. "We devils and liars and really bad eggs," he sang as he danced.

Elizabeth snorted. "I cannot tell you how happy I am James will be back before Gavin learns to talk. I don't want him returning to have his son greet him with, 'drink up, me hearties, yo ho!'" Then, she frowned and cocked her head, considering. "Of course, that he could conceivably blame on me. Gavin's first words being Papa he could not."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "And the dear Commodore is not the lad's Papa?"

"No. James is most definitely his father. And would be called as such." She sighed. Shook her head. "I can't imagine what he'd say if he knew I allowed you anywhere near his child. He'd never speak to me again."

The pirate gave her a sly, secretive smile. "You may be surprised, love."

"Would I now?" She dropped the cloth and crossed the room to him. "Give."

"Ah, now don't let a sudden attack of conscious ruin me fun. We was dancin'."

"Go dance with Will." She took the baby from him and kissed the auburn-furred head. "He's been itching to practice swords with someone besides me. He'd love a chance to go head to head with you again."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes. Just traipse off to get myself scratched and sweaty and humiliated."

"You? Humiliated? The great Captain Jack Sparrow? Never." 

Gavin stiffened in her arms. Began to cry querulously. 

Elizabeth sighed. Bounced him a few times. "Why do you cry every time I hold you, Gavin? It's not fair." She bounced him again and kissed him.

He cried harder.

"He's hungry," Jack said. 

"How do you know?"

Jack gave her something that, on any other person, might be considered an innocent look. "That's his hungry cry."

A wave of frustration overcame Elizabeth. She didn't know if she wanted to throw something at Jack or simply run him threw. "What are you doing here anyway?" she snapped. "Ten years you chase after the Pearl, and now that you've got her, you're spending all your time playing nursemaid to the Commodore's son?"

"Like I told you before. The Pearl's got repairs. Gibbs is taking care of that."

"And you trust your crew not to run off again?"

He cocked his head. "This one? Mostly. But don't worry, love. I'm leaving in a few hours. Just dropped in to see the little one and me friends. Bit of catching up."

"Except you were just here two months ago." She bounced Gavin a few more times, wondering where Mariah was. "You shouldn't risk it. Getting caught. Will and I won't always be around to save you from the noose, you know."

A strange, flittering smile crossed his face. "Don't worry your pretty head about it. Got me own methods of avoiding the noose, I do."

"Oh, do you? And just what is that, if I may ask?"

He smiled again, eyes dark and unreadable.

Mariah entered the room. Her hair was mussed and eyes half-lidded and heavy. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Turner. I didn't hear him cry." She took Gavin and went to sit.

"It's quite all right, Mariah. You're exhausted, I understand that. I only wish there was something I could do."

"You watched him while I slept. You're a friend. That's enough." 

"Then do I have to remind you again that you're free to call me Elizabeth?" She sat next to Mariah and tweaked Gavin's leg as he nursed hungrily.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. Of course." She looked from her to Jack. "Did I miss anything interesting?"

"I was just telling Gavin a story," Jack said.

"And then Jack informed me that he had a method of avoiding being hanged that didn't include him avoiding Port Royal at all cost."

"Oh, does he now?" Mariah looked at him, smiling. "And just what is that plan?"

"Nothing for you to be concerned about, darling." He pressed his palms together and bowed. 

"I rather hope not." She inhaled sharply and readjusted Gavin on her breast. "I hate when he does that."

"Does what?" Elizabeth asked.

"Pulls too hard. I nervously await the day his teeth break through."

"As you two women are seeming to be discussing womanly issues, I'm going to take a step out and talk to dear William." He pirouetted and traipsed to the door. On arriving, he turned and said, "I'll be leaving tonight, Lizzie love. Don't worry your pretty head at my ship or my neck."

When he was gone, Elizabeth let her head fall back against the cushioned back of the settee. Locks of hair fell out from her braid and across her face.

"What's wrong?" Mariah asked.

"Nothing." Then she reached out and rubbed Gavin's foot with her fingertips. "Jack's so good with him, you know? And Gavin adores him."

"Gavin adores you."

"No, Gavin tolerates me. I'm the one who holds him too tightly and squishes his arm. Who bounces him in the way that always makes him cry. That... I'm no good with him."

"Now that's not true," Mariah said. "You're good with him. You know what to do. But, sometimes, it takes time. Learning all the little things."

Elizabeth arched her eyebrow. "And a pirate knows better how to handle a baby better than I do, why?"

Mariah shrugged. "The ways of the world are many and strange. Some people seem to be born with the touch to handle babies. With others, it takes time. Besides, he's probably had experience."

"You mean... Jack has children?"

"Oh. Well, actually, I don't know." The idea seemed to surprise Mariah as much as it had Elizabeth. "I was thinking more, possibly, a sibling. Or, ah, members of his crew having children. But, yes, it is entirely possible that Jack has a child or two somewhere." She frowned, brow furrowing.

"How well do you know Jack?"

She shrugged. "Not very well. I began working in Port Royal, oh, about three years ago? Jack came to the tavern infrequently. Port Royal isn't really the safest place for him. But he's memorable. And draws people to him. Funny and mysterious."

"Good in bed?"

Mariah blushed and shot Elizabeth a sidelong glance. "Mrs. Tuner, I'm surprised at you."

Elizabeth giggled. "One does wonder. It's merely curiosity. I would never do anything about it. I have Will. And he's perfect."

"He very nearly is, isn't he?" She pulled Gavin, who was asleep, off her breast and covered herself back up. "Truth be told, I only knew him as a legend before. Even when he was my customer, there was no real knowing him. But after nearly a week in the same house..."

"Same house." Elizabeth sat up. "You mean, he's living with you?"

Mariah nodded and said, "Yes. I thought you realized. He's been helping with Gavin at night."

"At James's house. What about his cook? The butler?"

"The cook left the morning James did. She informed me she does not serve whores. And Mr. Travers has a lung infection. The doctor recommended he leave the house so as not to endanger the baby."

"So you're all alone? Why did you not say anything?"

"It's nothing. I have everything I need. Even before Jack came, I'm well able to take care of myself."

"But you should not have to. James left Mrs. Conway with you because you are a member of his household. You're not... and even if you were, he's paying her to do her job. She has no right." Elizabeth shook her head. "She'll simply have to be let go."

"Tis not your place," Mariah chided gently. "You are not the head of James's household."

"Who is when he is gone?"

Mariah shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Elizabeth sighed. "He won't mind if I take control to care for the two of you. I just... I feel a bit uncomfortable. I know he wouldn't approve of Jack staying in his home. But, at the same time if he is of help to you, then I don't want to send him away. Unless both of you come to stay here."

"There isn't room."

"We have an extra room."

"One only. Jack and I...." Mariah laughed suddenly. "You think we're lovers."

"Aren't you?"

She shook her head. "No. He's been staying... in the guest room. I've been in mine. We're not..."

Elizabeth frowned. Tried to sort out what she was being told and failed to make sense of it. "Then why is he here? I mean, what is his interest?"

"You'll have to ask him. I'm afraid I couldn't say."

But Elizabeth could tell Mariah was lying. And she intended to find out the truth.

* * *

"The king and men stole the queen from her bed," Jack sang as he washed Gavin in the small tub on the floor. "And bound her in her bones. The seas be ours, and by the powers. Where we will roam."

Gavin shrieked and brought his hands splashing down into the water. It sprayed over Jack's face. He laughed and wiped it away. "That's right, me boy. We are kings of the sea. And on the sea is where we are free." He lifted Gavin out of the water and swung him, dripping and wet, overhead. "Yo ho. Haul together. Hoist the colors high! Heave ho..."

"Thieves and beggars," Mariah joined in, entering the room.

Jack turned and gave her a cock-eyed grin. "Never shall we die," he finished off.

Gavin squealed again. His feet kicked in the air, hands clapped together. He gave Jack a gummy smile, drool mingling with water as it slid down his face.

"You are determined to teach him every pirate shanty there is, aren't you?" Mariah picked up a towel from next to Gavin's bath. Carefully, she took the baby and began to dry him.

"I figure James'll take care of the rest of the sea songs. Who else is going to teach the boy proper if his father won't?"

"Oh, I'm sure James will love his baby son proclaiming he's a really bad egg."

"Never hurt Lizzie, none." He flashed gold again. "And he wanted to marry her, pirate songs and all."

"Very true. Although, in retrospect, it seems the pirate in her may have been more attractive than the lady."

Jack looked over from the cupboard he'd poked his nose into. "Aye, it does seem that, don't it? However, I get the feeling my dear commodore would prefer if the pirate in me were more content to something rather more law abiding."

"Well," Mariah said as she set Gavin on the table and began to dress him, "I'm sure it's because he worries about you."

"Doesn't want to have to face hanging me."

"Can you blame him?" She finished pulling Gavin's clothes on. Then, picking him up, she crossed the room to Jack and put her hand on his cheek. "Can you imagine a world without the great Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Jack shrugged and opened his arms as if to present himself. "I always assumed the world would end should such a tragedy occur."

"Of course. Jack, understand that, should you be caught, James would be... Careful!" she exclaimed when Jack plucked Gavin from her arms.

"Don't you go worrying about me being caught. No more should James worry." He trailed his fingers lightly over Gavin's face. "I am not a man to get caught willy nilly. I have my ship, I have a crew what will follow me to the ends of the earth. And I have more than enough reason to stay free, eh?" Dark, fathomless eyes looked up at hers, serious and deep. "James does his best to do what is right. Honorable. But here, he'll be torn. Do what's right by the law, he loses the freedom what I gives him. Do what's right by me, he loses his son. He'll chose Gavin, as he should. But he won't be able to live with it. Not easily. So, least I can do is not make him face that."

Mariah's heart pounded in her throat. She'd never see Jack so serious before. And while she'd known the pirate wasn't out to hurt or abuse James, she hadn't been sure if his heart was caught up, as she knew James's heart to be.

Now she had no doubt.

"That's quite good of you, Jack."

He smiled. A wicked, lopsided, nearly maniacal smile. "Aye, isn't it? Least I can do for the honor of buggering the man who commands the British Navy in the Caribbean."

"Jack." Mariah rolled her eyes. "You are horrible."

Gavin squirmed. Began to cry.

Jack sighed and passed him back over to Mariah. "Lucky lad," he grumbled as Mariah settled into a nearby chair to feed the baby.

She raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"They're just nice, is all," he elaborated, waving his hands vaguely at Mariah's breasts. "I'm admiring. Me mate's been gone a month and I've been staring at those for nearly as long. Boy's lucky."

"Well, if you want your turn, he'll be asleep in a few minutes," Mariah said with a sweet smile.

Jack flashed her a quick smile. "From what I heard, Lizzie thinks I've already had a taste."

"You heard that."

"I hear everything, love."

She stroked Gavin's soft fuzzed hair. "I couldn't tell her the truth. It's not mine to tell." She cocked her head. "Will you tell her?"

"No need. She'll either figure it out, or Jamie will tell her. I'll let him decide."

The clock on the ledge chimed. Jack glanced at his. His mouth twisted.

"What?"

"I need to get back to the Pearl. She's calling."

Mariah wanted to point out that it was merely a clock, but refrained. For all she knew, the Black Pearl was calling to Jack. He certainly had drifted off quite a number of times in the past few days, gazing out towards where his ship was docked in a hidden cove.

Jack glided across the room and knelt at Mariah's feet. "Gavin, you take good care of Mariah until your da gets back. And if you need me, just call. I'll come." He kissed Gavin's forehead. His little nose.

"Where do you go?"

He looked up, his hands caressing Gavin's pudgy arms. "Heard tell of a voodoo charm. When the wearer is in trouble and needs his protector, it calls to that protector. So, I'm off to Cuba to see a sea witch."

"Is the charm for Gavin or James?"

"Both. You, too, if she still likes me enough to do the work." He kissed Gavin again, then rose and bussed Mariah on the mouth. "Take care of him."

"Take care of yourself."

Gold glinted and eyes twinkled. "That I cannot guarantee. But I can promise that, in one form or another, I will be back." He tugged on a lock of her hair, ran his fingertips over Gavin's head, and then climbed out the window, disappearing into the night.  
* * *  
"Morning," Mariah said as she let herself through the Turner's gate into their small yard. "Did you know a new ship's come into harbor?"

Elizabeth looked up from the laundry she was scrubbing. Her hair had fallen from her pins and stuck to her flushed face; obviously, she'd been working for quite some time. "No, I hadn't heard." She frowned. "Don't remember Father mentioning anything being expected today. Maybe an independent ship?"

"Not by the look of it." She pulled the blanket she and Elizabeth used for Gavin and laid it on the ground before depositing the sleeping baby in his basket. "I passed, just on the chance James was back. Looked like the East India Trading Company."

Elizabeth blinked, her frown deepening. "Oh. Strange, I don't remember anyone talking of them coming this week. I guess I'm more separated from society than I thought." She dropped what she was holding and stood, pushing damp hands through her hair. "Would you mind? My back is killing me."

"No, of course not." Mariah took Elizabeth's place at the washtub. 

As Mariah took up the scrubbing, Elizabeth picked up a basket of mending and sat on the blanket next to Gavin. "So. Is Jack gone?" 

"Left last night. Said he was going to see a sea witch about a charm for Gavin."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "A charm? Well. Suppose it's better than the tattoo I know he'll leave on Gavin one day while James is off. I swear, that man."

"He's not going to tattoo Gavin."

"He drew it for us just last week."

"And I told him quite clearly what would happen to him and any part of his body he was particularly fond of should he ever try."

That drew a laugh from Elizabeth. "And I do believe you'd do it."

"As does he."

"Very well. What's this charm, then?"

"Something to protect him. So if Gavin is in trouble while Jack is away, he'll somehow be able to call for his papa. It's nothing. Innocent. Let the man have his fancy."

"And when James sees it? Will it be so innocent? I mean, what would you say? To explain how Gavin got it." She furrowed her brow. "I just don't like lying James, not about his son."

Mariah sighed. Scrubbed down the washboard with a pensive look on her face. "Well," she said slowly after a moment. "Perhaps James wouldn't mind. Another set of eyes watching out for his son when he's gone. Another heart loving him."

"James hates Jack."

"And how do you know that?"

"Well." Elizabeth's needle paused and a winkle appeared at the bridge of her nose. "He's a pirate. James tried to hang him."

"But he let Jack go."

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Wrinkled her nose. "Not exactly. Just gave him a day's start, that's all."

"A day's start that stretched for weeks."

"But that's not... there was work to do."

"There was a notorious pirate to catch. One who, upon being caught, would have bumped James up from young Commodore to young Admiral, I'd wager. And yet, he chose not to pursue." 

"That doesn't mean he likes Jack."

"No, it doesn't. How much time did they spend together on the ship? Before you returned to Isle de los Muerta?"

Elizabeth frowned and studied Mariah closely, trying to work out her train of thought. "A few hours. Quite a few. Not together, though. I... well, I was in a cabin. I don't know where they were. Not together."

"Are you sure?" Mariah asked. Then she pulled her hands from the soapy water and straightened. "What's that?"

"It sounds like soldiers." She put her mending down. Rose and walked to the fence. "It is. I wonder where they're going."

Wiping her hands on her skirt, Mariah joined her. "With Marines, it could be anything. Criminal, skirt, ale. They're always..."

"They’re coming here," Elizabeth said. She barely had time to pull Mariah away from the gate before the men burst through it with no care as to who was on the other side. 

The Marines poured through, their weapons drawn, forcing the two women back. Elizabeth pushed Mariah behind her with one hand and scooped up the baby from his basket with the other. "Will!" she shouted, cursing her lack of foresight. Had she known her home was to be invaded, she'd have brought out her sword.

Mariah took Gavin from Elizabeth and exerted a gentle pressure, getting her to stop. Still, Elizabeth made sure Mariah was safely behind her before stepping forward, head lifted regally. 

"What, exactly, is the meaning of this?" she asked in an icy voice. 

"Orders."

"For what?"

"To arrest you, Mrs. Turner," an unfamiliar voice replied.

The Marines parted to reveal a man, well dressed, white wig, hat firmly on his head. A small smile graced his face, one that turned Elizabeth's blood cold. He walked until he was quite too close and looked straight into her eyes. 

She forced herself not to step back, not to give any ground. "Who are you?"

"Dear me, I've been remiss," he mocked. "I am Lord Cutler Beckett. I know your father, as it happens. Don't worry. I'll see that he is informed of your unfortunate circumstances."

"But why..."

"What is going on?" 

"Will." She turned and reached for her husband. 

He had sword in hand, but passed her none. And he just let his rest against his thigh, at the alert, but not good enough. Not fighting these ridiculous men away.

Beckett smiled. "Mister Mercer. The warrants, please."

A craggy, dour man passed three sheaves of paper to Beckett. 

"Thank you. Ah, here we are. Arrest warrants for one Mister William Turner, Mrs. Elizabeth Turner, nee Swan, and a former Commodore James Norrington."

"James has not been demoted," Mariah protested. 

"Has he not?" Beckett countered. "I believe you'll find his status changed."

"What are we charged with?" asked Will.

"The charge is conspiring to set free a man convicted of crimes against the crown and empire, and condemned to death, for which the punishment is also death." He cocked his head. "Perhaps you remember a man by the name of Jack Sparrow?" 

"Captain Jack Sparrow?" corrected Will. "He escaped."

"With your help. Don't insult my intelligence. You and your wife freed that man, and Commodore Norrington failed to do his duty in recapturing him."

Elizabeth couldn't help the guilty look she shot Mariah. The warrants, the demotion, obviously this had been planned long before her conversation with Mariah. But still. 

"I don't hear any protests. Good." His smile turned even more smug as he stepped back. "Gentlemen?"

"Wait, stop!" Elizabeth protested, fighting.

"Do as they say, Elizabeth," said Will, allowing himself to be manacled. "Your father will set this right."

"Don't so certain, Mister Turner. My authority exceeds his."

"Elizabeth."

She let out a sharp breath, but ceased her struggles. A moment later, cold metal engulfed her wrists and she stood next to her husband. "Where to now?" she asked, refusing to show any emotion but pride.

"Now, you, the whore, and the bastard shall take residence as the prison. Your husband shall come with me. We have much to discuss." 

It took a moment for the words to make sense. 

"You can't put a child in prison!" Will said, while Elizabeth was still working through it. "Gavin is just a baby."

"He is the son of James Norrington, and, as such, will stand proxy in his stead."

"He's an infant." It was Mariah this time who spoke. "He's just a baby. Please, sir. Lord. I'll go, but give Gavin to a wet nurse until the commodore returns."

"Do not presume to bargain with me. I am allowing you to be with the babe precisely to provide him sustenance. You are nothing as a proxy. His housekeeper. His wet nurse. Perhaps his mistress, but one cannot be sure. He has not married you, thus you have no importance to him. It must be his son."

"But..."

"I am through discussing. Take them to the fort." With that, Beckett executed a sharp turn on his heel and marched away.

The Marines pushed Will and Elizabeth forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them be a tad more gentle with Mariah, for which she was glad. That meant not everyone agreed with this insanity of Beckett's. Still. That didn't help them now.

"So," Elizabeth said, sotto voce to Mariah. "Any chance of charm magically working before Jack gets it?" 

Gavin shrieked suddenly, squirming in Mariah's arms.

The other woman smiled grimly. "With any other man, I'd laugh. But..." She sighed. Rubbed Gavin's back and tried to sooth him. "James should be back any day."

"Only to be arrested." 

"Perhaps," Will said. He reached his manacled hand for Elizabeth's and squeezed it. "Except Beckett seems more interested in holding the two... three of you. Me, he's talking to."

"So?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrow.

"So. What does he want from me? He obviously thinks he won't get it without ransom. And that's what Gavin and Mariah are, too. Not prisoners. Not proxy. You're leverage."

Mariah gave a small laugh. "You're entirely too much like Jack, you know."

Will smiled and shook his head. "No. Not I. I simply... interpret the motives of others. I don't come up with the twisted plans. I just understand them." He looked at Elizabeth. "Her on the other hand."

"What does he want, then, oh brilliant husband of mine?"

His face darkened and he shook his head. "That, lovely wife, we will have to wait and see."

* * *

James stood on the deck of the Dauntless, his hands properly clasped behind his back, posture straight, face perfectly composed. He was the model of a proper Commodore.

Inside he, though, he was somewhat decidedly less than composed. Inside, he was a hurricane, a monsoon, a maelstrom. 

Nearly two months since he'd last seen his son. Two long, empty, aching months without Gavin's eyes and his coos and his tiny body in James's arms.

It been exactly the torture James had imagined. Only far worse.

He'd never missed anyone like this before, not since he was a child. Even when he'd been falling in love with Elizabeth, once he was at sea, she was out of his mind. Everything was business, the matter at hand. No distractions. His life had been neatly divided neatly in two: land and sea.

Now, his life had been turned on end, and he couldn't say he minded.

Gavin's birth might have been tragic. His conception... questionable. But his gift to James's life was precious.

"Sir," Lieutenant Groves said, coming beside him. 

James blinked, becoming aware he'd drifted inward. When his vision cleared, he saw a jolly boat approaching the Dauntless.

"I believe that's William Turner," Groves said, a note of wonder in his voice. "Surrounded by Marines."

"What has he done now?" A heavy feeling entered his stomach. Will was the most reliable and steady man he knew. Yes, he had been known to act impulsively on occasion, but not without warrant. He had a level head on him and, now that he had Elizabeth for his wife, was even more inclined to think his actions through before he acted.

Elizabeth on the other hand...

"Commodore!" Will called when the jolly boat was almost on them. "May I come aboard?"

"Of course." He nodded to his men. They dropped a ladder over, which Will swiftly climbed.

The Marines followed.

James met Will as the other man appeared over the gunwale. Will stumbled a bit as he climbed aboard, legs too used to land. James reached out to steady him, grasping him by the forearm. Will reached back and gripped the railing.

"What's going on, Will? Has something happened to..." His voice died, suddenly imagining the worst. His son, lying in his crib, not breathing, lips and face blue. Tiny heart...

"Gavin is fine," Will said, a man born to be a father and able to read the mind of one of his own. "He's with Mariah and Elizabeth." He sounded a trifle breathless and he was rubbing raw, reddened skin on his left wrist. 

James glanced at the Marines. They were standing behind Will in a holding pattern, muskets at the ready, faces stern. They were strangers, James realized with a start. He was the commanding officer, he knew every the face of every man who served under him. These men, he didn't know.

"What happened?" he asked flatly. He pointedly looked at the red marks, then met his eyes.

Will grimaced. Nodded. "I must speak with you. Urgently." He glanced back at the Marines. "These men need to... escort us back to the fort. To speak to... for orders. The Dauntless is to remain here." He met James's eyes. "I would order them to restock the stores."

He opened his mouth to ask again what was happening, but snapped it shut once more. There was some reason Will was hesitating. Whatever reason it was, James would respect it.

"Very well. Let me inform my men." He stepped away from Will and went back to the quarterdeck. Gillette had joined Groves, and they were looking down on James with twin expressions of concern.

"What's going on?" Gillette asked when James had joined them. "Did Turner do something? Did he bring that pirate back? Did he..."

"Mr. Turner has done nothing," James interrupted, shooting a look at Groves. Generally, steady-tempered Groves was able to keep the more excitable Gillette in check.

Groves only shrugged, expressing his concern in his own quiet way.

"I'm returning to the fort with Mr. Turner. Gillette, you will follow with a small contingent of men. Restock the ship in case we are ordered out again immediately."

"Do you think that likely, Commodore?" asked Groves.

"I do." 

"What?" Gillette exclaimed as James turned to leave. "And that whelp, that... that pirate is the one who has brought the news? What is going on?"

He took a deep breath, then turned sharply on his heel. Fixing his gaze on Gillette, James said, "What is going on is you've been given an order, Lieutenant Gillette." He raised an eyebrow.

The other man swallowed and shrank back. "Yes, sir. Commodore."

James gave Groves a look, then turned and left.

The Marines directed him and Will to climb back down to the jolly boat. There, they rowed a safe distance away before one of them pulled out two pairs of manacles.

"I take it I'm under arrest, then?" James said dryly, shooting a look at Will.

The Marine holding the manacles nodded. "By orders of his lordship, you are under arrest for aiding and abetting the escape of a notorious pirate."

James looked at Will, who was being manacled by the other Marine.

"I convinced his lordship that it would not do to disgrace you in front of your crew," Will said. "I tried to tell him he should not manacle you at all, in fact. He only conceded the ship, so that you might maintain your dignity and your control, should you accept his mission."

James grimaced at the cold feel of iron around his wrists. "His lordship is?"

"Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company. He sailed into port two days ago and placed us all under arrest. Myself, Elizabeth, and... and Gavin in your stead."

"What?" Only a hand on his shoulder prevented James from shooting to his feet. His heart pounded, throbbed in his ears as he tried to comprehend the ludicrous words just spoken.

"He's fine," Will said. "Mariah is with him."

"With him where?"

He swallowed and looked down. "In the fort prison."

"He's a baby!"

"I know. Believe me, we've all tried to talk sense to this man, but he won't listen. He's convinced the only way to make you do it is to put Gavin in prison. I told him, the governor told him, everyone told him that you were a man of honor and would go.... But he's insane."

"What does he want me to do? What..." If he could, James would leap from the boat and swim to shore. Rush into the fort's prison, break down the bars, and take his baby to safety.

Will ducked his head. Sighed, then looked back up. "He wants you to go after Jack Sparrow and bring him back to Port Royal."

Jack. It always, always came back to Jack bloody Sparrow. God dammit.

"Why?" he asked, weary. He endeavored not to slump, not to hang his head. His soul was already guilty enough as it was for his relations with the pirate; he would not cement his guilt in the eyes of the law without proof that he was being prosecuted for the same.

"I don't know. He has some reason, something he wants."

"Jack."

But Will shook his head. "That's what I thought at first, but now I'm not sure. He wants Jack alive. He..." Will hesitated. Wet his lips with his tongue. Forged on. "He knows Jack."

"He does?"

Will nodded. "He won't say where or how."

"Perhaps he was there when Jack was branded." He tilted his head. "Or he did the branding."

They were almost to the docks. Not fast enough, not soon enough. He still had to restrain himself from leaping from jolly boat and charging the fort. He had his sword at his side. Even hands bound, he could use it. He could fight.

"James," Will said, voice soft. He met James's eyes, drawing them from the fort. "Tis better to exercise patience."

He couldn't help snorting. But he nodded his agreement.

Time dragged but finally, finally, they were in his office. Unfamiliar Marines stood on either side of the door. A man stood behind James’s desk, facing away.

"Mister Norrington, so kind of you to finally join us. I was beginning to despair that you would ever return to Port Royal."

He bit back the automatic correction of his rank. Useless, of course; whoever this man thought he was, he obviously knew James and his rank. He also swallowed his retort that he was decidedly ahead of the projected schedule by at least two weeks.

Instead, he skipped straight to the point. "My son."

Lord Cutler Beckett turned in one sharp, neat movement. James fought back a flinch brought on by the cold, dead eyes that met his own. He'd faced bloodthirsty pirates, a French brig, and a crew damned by Satan himself. Nothing disturbed him quite like this man.

Thin lips curled at the corners. "Your son is fine."

"From what I understand, my son is currently being held in the fort's prison. The one intended for criminals and those about to be hung." He took two steps forward. "Are you planning on hanging an sixth month old baby?"

"I will do what is necessary to secure your cooperation, Mister Norrington."

A chill ran down his back, but he refused to let it show. "And what exactly do you need my cooperation for?"

"You are familiar with one Jack Sparrow?"

"You know that I am. As are you, I take it?"

The smile was wider now, though only a hint of warmth pervaded it. "Twas I who placed the brand on his arm to let the world know of his profession."

He swallowed. "And the world thanks you for it." The words were dust on his tongue. "What do you want of Ja... Sparrow?"

"I want you to bring him here. Will that be a problem?" Beckett's look changed from one of bored command to interest. His eyes narrowed and a fire sparked in those dead eyes.

"Of course not. It is my job to bring those who break the law to justice." He took another step forward. "What I don't understand is why, when I was out doing that job, my child was put in prison."

Beckett didn't flinch at the volume with which the words were thrown into his face. He merely replied, "To make sure you understood how serious I am. You will leave, now, and bring Jack Sparrow to Port Royal. Barring that, should you be forced to kill said pirate, you will bring me his compass."

He started, surprised. "His compass. The one that doesn't work?"

"Oh, it works, Commodore. It works exactly as it should. And you will bring it to me. When you do, your son shall go free."

"I won't do anything until my son is safe. I want him back in my home under the care of Miss Mariah Plover. I would also like Mrs. Turner to accompany them. Give them house arrest, but give them the courtesy of my home."

Beckett considered it for a moment before giving a succinct, "No."

Norrington endeavored not to punch the man. "I will do my duty. I will do what you ask and bring Jack Sparrow's compass, with or without the man, to you. Why cannot you give me the courtesy of my son's safety?"

"Because I know Jack Sparrow only too well." He gave James a penetrating look, from the top of his head to his toes. The look seemed to strip James bare, reveal his secrets, lay his soul for perusal.

James clamped his teeth around his tongue. Kept his face carefully composed. He would give away nothing.

And, yet, Beckett smirked. Met James's eyes. "I know Jack Sparrow only too well," he repeated, voice deceptively soft.

A flare of emotions he did not want to examine rushed through James. His head spun. His face grew warm. Again, he had to fight his impulse to pound Beckett's cold, cold face into a pulp, now for quite different reasons.

With great effort, James forced the insanity away. Focused his thoughts on his son. "I need to know my son is safe. He will die if left in that cell. It's dirty. The night air will chill him. The food.... He must be safe."

"If you don't do this, he will die. Why do you seek to bargain the life you proclaim to love so much?"

And, he'd had enough.

In a swift movement, James had his sword out of its sheathe and at Beckett's throat.

And the man, that... inhuman, cold bastard of a man, had the gall to look... to look... Bored.

He didn't even blink. Didn't flinch and didn't look surprised. Who was this man?

"Perhaps, in the future when arresting a man who's child you've placed in jail without warrant, you might want to tell your men to disarm him."

There was the sound of another sword being drawn. James tensed, but then Will came into his peripheral view, a sword in his hand, too.

In a slight display of humanity, Beckett swallowed. Glanced at the sword point pressed against his throat. "I suppose I could move the three to a room of my choosing. A more comfortable one."

"They need to be fed decent food. Have beds. Entertainment. Something to do."

"I will make sure all their needs are provided for," Beckett said, voice tinged with sarcasm.

"If any of them are in any way harmed..." He twisted the sword, digging it into Beckett's skin.

"I understand."

James narrowed his eyes. Nodded and stepped back. "I want to see my son before I leave."

"You need to leave as soon as possible."

"I will leave directly after I see my son."

Beckett nodded. "Very well."

"And as I want to hold my son, I'll need these removed." He held out his wrists.

A look at the Marines brought them over and undoing both James's and Will's manacles. After Will returned the sword he'd stolen, and James sheathed his, they were led out of Beckett's office.

"Mister Norrington," Beckett said just when they reached the door.

James turned back. Raised an eyebrow.

"I've heard you are the best pirate hunter in these waters. I expect you to live up to that. I want that compass, Mister Norrington. If I don't get it, I will be... disappointed and inclined to honor the letter of your arrest warrant."

He refused to be cowed. He just raised an eyebrow and said, "Am I allowed to continue to refer to myself as Commodore, or have I officially been stripped of my rank?"

Beckett smiled. "Commodore." He inclined his head in obvious dismissal.

James followed the Marines through the fort. His heart sank as he was led to the prison. Even with Will and Beckett both assuring him that, indeed, they spoke the truth, he'd had a hard time convincing him of the fact. Gavin was a baby. Barely more than a newborn and so very tiny. How could anyone put him in this dank and dirty place meant for villains and miscreants?

"Will! James!" Elizabeth threw herself at the bars when she saw him, hands wrapped tightly around. "Please tell me you've talked sense to that vile man." Her hair was lank and face dirty. Dark circles were under her eyes, and James knew she hadn't slept since she'd been brought here. Her hands clutched at the bars as if she would pull them from place were she strong enough.

"Back," the Marine ordered.

Elizabeth scowled at him, but did as he said when Will nodded at her.

The cell was opened, and then James was inside. He pushed past Elizabeth to the back corner, where Mariah sat, looking weary but calm, Gavin in her lap.

He fell to his knees before her. "Are you all right?" he asked, hand on her cheek. His other sought his son, who was wiggling his fingers and looking amused, clapping and laughing every few seconds.

"I'm fine, James," she assured him wearily. "As is Gavin."

He took his child in his arms. Bright green eyes blinked up at him with an awareness that hadn't been there when James had left. A big gummy smile greeted him and a tiny hand grabbed his coat.

He couldn't speak. Couldn't say anything. James just held Gavin close and rained kisses over soft round cheeks and hair.

"James," Elizabeth said, kneeling beside him. Her voice was a mere whisper, and she fussed with a blanket that had fallen from Gavin as a distraction. "We can take them. The guards. You, me, and Will."

"And go where? How? How will we care for Gavin if we flee without a plan?"

"But..."

"I can't." He looked up at Mariah. "I've secured Beckett's promise to move you to actual lodgings. To care for you--all of you--while I go after J... Sparrow."

"He's gone to Cuba,” Mariah said. “He left not three days ago. Beckett arrived the day after he left."

James closed his eyes and gave a silent prayer of thanks that Beckett and Jack had not crossed paths. Then, upon opening them again, he leaned forward and kissed Mariah softly on the cheek. "I will make this right."

"I know." Her fingertips grazed his neck and she smiled. "I have faith in you."

"James," Elizabeth protested.

He turned to her and pulled her against him in a tight hug. Placing his face so it was hidden by Elizabeth's, he whispered, "I trust you with their lives." Then he pulled away. Looked into her eyes.

They widened. "I'll take care of them," was all she said, but he knew she understood.

He smiled. Kissed her on the cheek. Rose.

"You need to leave the babe here," the Marine said when James reached the cell door.

"Think about what you are doing. He's a child. He's not even a year old. You cannot leave him here. Please."

He shrugged. "I have orders. He stays."

James sighed. "There is a place in hell for men who do not stand up in the face of injustice."

All he received was another shrug.

He kissed Gavin again and again. Rubbed his cheek against Gavin's, pressed his face into the soft, round belly for fear when he returned, it would be wasted thin from hunger. One dozen more kisses, and Mariah was taking Gavin from him.

"Go," she whispered. "Before it is too hard."

"Too late." But he forced himself to relinquish his grasp. Straightening his shoulders, he nodded to the Marine, who opened the cell door. James walked through, feeling his heart shatter as he left it behind once again.

* * *

James set down his pen. Picked up the blotter and pressed it to the paper. Once the ink was dry, he lifted it. Scanned his eyes over his words. Picked the pen up once more.

A knock sounded on the door of his cabin.

"Come."

The door opened. "It's me, James. Will."

He glanced up. Nodded. Returned to his writing.

The door closed. Will crossed the cabin and sat in the chair across the desk. 

"Something on your mind?" James asked, not looking up.

"Yes." Will cleared his throat. "When you were gone, Jack visited. He stayed in your home. Helped Mariah keep house."

"Why would Mariah need help keeping house?" James looked up sharply. "She had Mrs. Conway and Travers."

"Travers was taken ill and removed himself as not to infect Gavin. And Mrs. Conway refused to stay. So. Jack did."

"Why did no one..." He broke off his words and angrily threw his quill back into the ink pot. "I expected better of Mrs. Conway. It's clear my ability to judge character is not what I thought." Not that there was anything he could do about it now. The likelihood of him every seeing his former cook and housekeeper again was slim. He couldn't waste precious time and energy on something that was past. Something that didn't matter. Not anymore.

"Elizabeth wanted to fire her," said Will. "Hire a replacement. But we assumed it wasn't our place. And Mariah... Well. She insisted that she was fine. And Jack..." He trailed off. Shrugged.

"Mariah is very self-sufficient. Not one to make a fuss. I'm not surprised she objected. Although, I should have been more explicit in my instructions that she be treated as lady of the house, with all the power it entailed. I..."

"Do you truly not care that Jack Sparrow lived in your house for almost a month?" Will burst out, hand slamming flat on the desk.

James blinked. Realization slides through him, followed by a slow blush that he couldn’t help. God, how could he have been so stupid? What was he...

Perspective. Gavin was in prison. His life, and everything James had ever worked for, had been taken away with the sweep of one tiny man's too powerful hand. And, suddenly, hiding Jack and his regard for Jack just didn't matter.

He sighed. Rubbed his forehead wearily, feeling the dull ache. "Well. I am not unaware of your friendship with Jack. The fact that he visited you when I was gone is not surprising."

"But, he had... He was in your house. With your child."

"And, oddly enough, Gavin seems to have been fine until a lunatic lord sailed into Port Royal and locked him up. Jack, in this case, is not the lunatic."

"But you hate Jack."

James closed his eyes. "I am not... favorably inclined towards his choice of profession. I've nothing against the man personally."

Will snorted. "Please. You tried to hang him."

"As a consequence of his profession. I took no pleasure, as you may have noticed had you not been so busy flouncing around in your stupid hat trying to rescue him. Poorly."

"It worked!"

"Because he took a bloody dive off the fort, not because of you. If I recall correctly, we had you surrounded. He simply traipsed his way out."

"I got him there."

James rolled his eyes. "Then you might as well say I did too. I'm the one who ordered his execution, got him to the fort, put him on the platform. I set the stage for your rescue."

Will frowned. Opened his mouth. Abruptly shut it. "What are we talking about?" 

"Whether or not I hate Jack Sparrow or piracy."

"Right." He sat back. Crossed his arms over his chest. "About Jack. What are you going to do when we find him?"

James looked down at his missive. Picked up his quill and signed his name at the bottom. 

"James?"

"Sail ho!" came the muffled cry from the deck.

Feet pounded. Then knocking on the door.

James rose. "Come."

Groves stepped in. His color was high, eyes bright. "We've spotted her. The Black Pearl. We're drawing up on her."

"Good. Run up the white flag. I'll be out directly." His eyes moved to Will. "You join them on deck. I'll be out in a moment."

"What are you going to do, James?"

He met Will's eyes. "Go," he commanded.

Will frowned. His forehead knitted and mouth pressed into a pout. But, he simply nodded and left.

James heart pounded wildly. He pressed his sweating palms against the desk and closed his eyes. Took a deep breath, trying to calm his stomach. Slow his pulse. Come to some kind of modicum of calm.

When he finally reached it, he opened his eyes again. Looked down at his missive. One last time, he read it over, making sure it was right. Thus assured, he dripped wax at the bottom. Affixed his seal.

The path was set. No turning back now.

* * *

"And we need your help," Will was saying as James emerged from his cabin. "Please, come over so we can talk."

"Thank you, my dear Will, but if there is talking to be done, you may come over to my ship," Jack said from the deck of his Pearl, lying in wait alongside the Dauntless. Behind him stood his crew, all armed, all untrusting.

James latched onto Jack's form. Drew strength from him. The man he so desperately needed at this moment, the only hope for his child.

The only hope for him.

He stood in front of the cabin. A breeze ruffled his hair, making him feel naked. Exposed.

"You can't expect us to go there," he heard Gillette say as if from a great distance. "You're a pirate. We at least are honorable men."

A good number of Jack's crew snorted and muttered. Quite a few fingered their weapons more openly.

Jack simply smiled. "Honorable men, of course. But you see, your concept of honor and my concept of honor are not so similar. I hold to no king and country, while you hold your king, country above all else. You would do anything in the pursuit of that honor, which makes you unpredictable." Gold flashed. "I know a man so devoted to his strange concept of honor that he's all but twisted his entire life around it. To no aim and purpose but to satisfy some strange impulse."

"Here, now, that's not true," James couldn't help but protest. 

Jack turned his head, catching sight of James. His eyes widened almost comically, head rearing back in an exaggerated manner.

James managed a half-smile. "You may not approve of my latest choice, either, I'm afraid."

"Commodore?" Groves said, voice soft. Questioning. 

He tightened his grip on his pack. Crossed the deck to where his lieutenants stood, Groves calmly curious, Gillette red-faced and upset.

The trip across the deck took years. Every step was lead, pounding on the deck in time to his heart. Blood rushing in his ears, making him lightheaded. Drunk and distance. Unreal.

A millennium passed. Miles traversed, he came to a stop in front of Groves. 

The younger man looked him over. Met his eyes. "Commodore..."

He made a sound in his throat. Shook his head.

"James," Groves said, voice softer. "What is going on?"

"Yes, yes, dear James," Jack purred, suddenly at his side. "What is going on? You look positively indecent out of your uniform."

"Get away from him, you blackguard!" Gillette shouted. He grabbed at Jack, who shook him off easily.

Groves pulled his hotheaded counterpart back. Kept his eyes on James. "James?"

He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Lieutenant Groves, I hereby resign my commission. The ship is yours." He handed Groves his letter.

"Commodore, you can't! Have you gone you mad?" Gillette protested.

Groves took the letter. "Why?"

"I can no longer serve an organization I do not believe in," James said, closing his eyes.

"What did we do?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "You did nothing. There has never been a finer crew or finer men," he added, glancing at Gillette and giving him a smile. "You two... you all should be commended. But I cannot stay."

"Jamie, what is going on?" Jack said, voice low.

He turned. "Captain. May I have permission to board your ship?"

Jack waved his hand irritably. "Of course. But tell me what is going on? Is Gavin..."

A lump formed in his throat. Choking, pressing behind his eyes, throbbing in his head. He couldn't speak, couldn't see anything but his infant child, lying in Mariah's lap, in a dirty, filthy prison.

Jack's eyes went wide. Face paled. "But..."

"Gavin is alive," said Will. "Just in danger. A man has taken Elizabeth, Mariah, and Gavin prisoner."

Jack turned sharply. "Gavin? Prisoner?"

James closed his eyes. Swayed lightly on his feet.

"What are you talking about, Mr. Turner?" Groves asked. "Who has taken them? And... your son? A baby? Surely you must be mistaken."

"I wish I were," James managed to force out. He opened his eyes and found Jack's. "My son is in prison. By a man named Lord Cutler Beckett."

Jack flinched. "Come," he said, taking James by the arm. "You." He thrust his finger into Groves's face. "Stay. Don't go anywhere. You." This time, the finger was for Will. "Tell them everything. Keep them here." He turned and dragged James after him, heading to the Pearl.

"Jack. Jack, what are you doing?" Will called after them.

"Stay here!" 

James followed Jack, the world a blur around him. He knew when he was led onto the Pearl, past the glaring, outraged faces of the pirate crew. Into the great cabin.

"Sit." 

He was pushed down on the bed, pack falling to his feet. A moment later, a glass was pressed into his hand.

"Drink."

He obeyed. The rum was rough, burning a trail down his throat. It dissolved the lump. He coughed violently, tears rising.

"There, there," Jack soothed, slapping him on the back. "Takes some time to get used to. What we have out here isn't the refined stuff you sip on land. Takes a real man to swallow this down."

"Indeed." James shot a sideways look at Jack. Tried to give him a smile. Failed. Utterly.

Jack looked as serious as he'd ever seen. "What happened, love?"

James shook his head helplessly. His eyes stung and Jack's face blurred. "I returned not three days after you left to find my child in the fort's prison. Lying on that dirty floor, surrounded by filth and thieves and...God, Jack."

"Mariah was with him," Jack asked, pulling James to him.

James pressed his forehead against Jack's neck. Clutched at his vest and took comfort as Jack delicately stroked his back. "Mariah was with him. And Elizabeth. But he was in prison. What kind of monster does that?"

"Whatever kind Cutler is. Never quite decided what he was, but pure evil is an accurate description. And I don't toss that phrase around willy nilly." He combed his fingers through James's hair. "What does he say he wants?"

James pulled away and wiped his eyes, ashamed at his weakness. "Your compass."

"Ah. Will was saying something about it."

"I wouldn't ask. I don't trust that man. If he could imprison a baby, he could easily refuse to follow to do what he promised. He swore he would move them to a room, but I cannot help but think..."

"No. If Cutler said he would place them in a room, he has. But you are right about him following through on his other promises. He'll find a way to keep you trapped. He'll keep dangling Gavin's freedom over you, making him your slave."

He nodded. Wiped his eyes again. "Will you help us? Get Gavin out? And Mariah?"

"What there ever any doubt?"

"Do you have anywhere we can go? After? I don't know.... He's in charge of the East India Trading Company. He's a lord. I cannot return to England, cannot stay in Port Royal. We need somewhere to begin again."

Jack lifted his hand. His fingers danced lightly over James's face, up to his hair, down his jaw. "Of course, love. Anything you want."

"I want my son back."

"We'll get him back, James. I promise. We will get him back."

* * *

Jack left his cabin, surprised it was still light. James was asleep, helped along by a little something snuck into the rum. Man needed it, looking like he did. Big black circles under his eyes, face sickly pale under tanned skin, lines etched where they hadn't been before. He needed sleep, needed someone else to take care of things. James was too ready to give everything up, the life he'd worked for, the friends he had. 

He was crazed with grief. No fit state to take care of this. To plan.

"What's going on, Captain?" Gibbs asked. "Turner said something about a baby in jail?"

"Aye. Norrington's son has been imprisoned by the East India Trading Company." He turned to his second in command. "We're breaking him out."

"It's not our fight, Captain," Marty protested. "We're not risking our lives for that Navy scum."

Jack turned on him. "It is my fight. Mine. He’s my son too. Any man who doesn't want to risk his neck is free to get off."

"What? Here?"

Jack fought not to roll his eyes. "I follow the code. I will take anyone who wants off to a location they deem suitable, provided it does not postpone or prolonged the duration it takes to get to Port Royal and get a six month old child out of a jail cell." He began to stalk to the Dauntless, when a thought occurred to him. He turned. "Mariah Plover and Elizabeth Turner are also imprisoned. As you've all had dealings with at least one of the ladies, you might feel more inclined to go after them."

"What do you mean the kid's yours?" Gibbs asked. "You never said anything about a kid."

"Why do you think I was in Port Royal all those months?" He climbed onto the gunwale and leapt lightly to the Dauntless.

The tall, calm lieutenant, Groves, Jack thought he'd been called, was on the quarterdeck with Will. When Jack boarded, Groves gestured for Jack to join them.

He needed no further invitation. "We'll need your help," he said without preamble. “But James won’t want to ask for it.”

Groves nodded. "I assumed as much. Mr. Turner has been filling me in on what happened. I don't know why the Commodore didn't.... Anyway. I've talked to the crew. Only one man doesn't want to risk his career, so he's been confined to quarters until this is finished." 

“You’d turn pirate for him?”

“We’d follow him to the ends of the earth,” he said. “James is the best man I know. And if this is what the Royal Navy has come to, quite frankly, I want nothing to do with it.” He hesitated. "How is James?"

Jack narrowed his eyes and studied the other man, trying to gauge the intent of his question. James was his; he wasn't going to share, not with this tall, pretty man. "Sleeping," Jack finally answered. He turned to Will. "I need to know what you know. What does he want?"

"Beckett? He said he wants your compass. He didn't say why. I told him it doesn't work, but..."

"It works." Jack stroked his chin. "How many ships did he bring?"

"Three. But he's taken over Port Royal. Commandeered the rest of them."

"And everyone's loyal?"

Will shrugged. "Everyone at the fort knows that James's son was placed in prison. No one stood up to him."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You didn't."

"I couldn't risk it. Where would I have taken them?" Will asked pragmatically. "Elizabeth might have managed an escape, but not from the inside."

Jack conceded the point. Will was too steady, feet too firmly planted on the ground. He was capable of brilliant planning, but the moment someone he loved was in danger, he became logical. Hesitant.

And James....

The man was brilliant, but this was his son. And he needed the ship and a safe place to retreat. His planning was over for now.

"I can't imagine anyone at Port Royal has actually turned their backs on James," Groves said. "He's very highly regarded."

"And Cutler is terrifying," Jack agreed. "If we were to go in, how likely is it they'd fight against us?"

Groves's face fell. "I'm not sure."

"Is there anyone to send ahead to see? Someone who wouldn't be noticed, but who would be able to talk to the officers?"

"There's a few midshipmen. Young, unnoticeable. They might be able to."

"The Dauntless will have to go in first. No. First, we'll send in the midshipmen. Then you go in... the Pearl will follow, but we can't be seen."

"If the fort is too busy defending themselves from one of their own, they won't notice a small contingent that goes ashore."

"From the Dauntless. Pearl stays out of range."

Groves nodded. "Of course."

Jack tugged at a lock of hair. "That might work." He met Groves's eyes. "And my crew is safe?"

"Yes." He hesitated, then said, "After, we’d meet up with you. So I know that James is safe. And... And Mariah."

"Mariah?"

The lieutenant's face turned red. 

"Does she know?"

"I've... We've spoken. But I don't know if she realizes how... how highly I regard her."

"I shall pass on your respects. And our location." He nodded and gave the lad a smile, more inclined to be friendly as he was not a threat. "We'll stay here for the night. When James awakes, we'll finalize our plans."

"Aye, Captain," Groves said, giving a respectful salute and smile.

James gave him a bow, then twirled around and headed back to the Pearl.

"Jack," Will said, falling into step beside him. "What is going on?"

"I thought it was quite obvious. A child has been put in prison, Captain Jack Sparrow runs to the rescue. I happen to love that boy, if you haven't noticed." He climbed onto the gunwale and swung across to the Pearl.

"I never expected any less," answered Will, following. "I watched you with Gavin every day. I knew you would help. But what's going on with you and James?"

Jack spun around, arms out. He shrugged. "I don't know what you are talking about. Mr. Gibbs?"

"Aye, Captain?"

"Anyone complaining about our mission?"

"No, Captain. Although, you might want to talk to them, too."

"Of course."

Will grabbed Jack's arm. "What's going on, Jack? You seem awfully familiar with James."

"Of course I'm familiar with him. Spent the night on his ship, once or twice. He tried to hang me."

"Yes, I know. And yet, you seem forgiving."

Jack smiled. Spread his hands. "Always magnanimous, me. Never one to hold a grudge."

"You carried a single shot to kill Barbossa for ten years!"

"Score wasn't settled."

"Jack. You called him Jamie."

"I call your wife Lizzie."

"You're friends with my wife."

Jack gave up. Simply looked at Will, eyebrow raised.

Will blinked. Shook his head. "You can't.... You can't mean that you and James Norrington are... friends."

"No, I don't mean. I do mean that he and I... What he and I are is something he can explain to you. In the meantime, rest assured I only mean the best by him and his son." He turned and began walking way.

"You were there for weeks and you never saw fit to explain to either myself or Elizabeth of you... arrangement?" Will shouted. "What about Mariah?"

"As I'm sure your darling wife explained, Mariah and I never entangled. Well, have not entangled for quite some time. Years. Not while I was in town, at any rate."

Will grabbed him. "We were worried. Felt guilty that we were allowing you near Gavin. Thinking he'd protest, thinking we were being poor friends for not following what surely were his wishes. And you knew!"

"Despite what you may believe about me, I am not, in fact, a mind reader."

"Jack."

Jack twisted his arm in Will's grip, taking hold of him and tugging him close. "Despite my rather unconventional attitude toward life, that does not mean I am prepared to ruin the life of another. Especially not one such as he."

Will gave him a long, steadily penetrating look. "Jack, I..." He furrowed his brow. Pulled his arm away. Stepped back. "Jack. Am I to understand that you... that you and James have formed... have done... have been... in some sort of... sexually intimate... thing?"

"Not that it is any of your concern, of course."

The boy looked up at him. His cheeks burned a dull red. "I must know. Neither of you has been... you've not forced him, nor he you. Have you?"

He frowned. "Of course not. Neither of us is the type of man to force another into our bed." He grinned. "Don't need to, mate. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

Will gave him a wan smile in return.

"May I ask what brought on this unpleasant question?"

He shrugged. "On my voyage from England as a boy, there was a man... a man who was quite insistent of his pursuit of me."

"Will," Jack said, stepping closer.

The boy shook his head. "No. Nothing happened. Not.... The cook and the first mate made sure I was guarded when they discovered what was going on. But now... I don't know anything, Jack. That's all I know about this kind of thing. All I've heard. Pain and humiliation."

"It's not always like that. Just like it's not always like that between men and women." Jack shrugged. "There are always them that take pleasure in the pain and hurt of others. It's got nothing to do with sex. Nothing to do with love."

"Do you love James?"

Jack hesitated. He hated to lay himself bare. Hated to give someone else an opening against him.

But he hated even more that Will wouldn't look at him. That he kept edging away from Jack, biting his lip.

So he forced himself not to disassemble for once in his life. "I do."

Will relaxed. Looked at him.

"William," Jack said, taking a step closer. "When I first met you and Lizzie... you were both the most beautiful people I'd ever met. Spent time trapped alone with. And I wanted you. Both of you. So very much."

The dull red was back now. Brighter, spread all over Will's face. "So, why didn't you..."

"You wouldn't have understood. Neither of you. Anything I did would have been misinterpreted. It would have hurt you. But James..." He shrugged. "I knew the moment we met that we'd end up tumbling in bed."

"Didn't he arrest you when you met?"

Jack waved his hand. "He did his job. Flirted on top of it. We ended up coming to an arrangement on the voyage to Ilse de los Muerta to rescue you."

"Oh."

"I would never hurt any of my friends. Never force anyone into bed. You've no fear, William. And if you're still not assured, ask James later, when he wakes."

"I trust you, Jack. I do." Then he shrugged and said, "But, I'll probably still talk to James. Not because I don't trust you, but... well. You do seem part witch sometimes. I have to make sure he's not, you know. Enspelled."

Jack laughed. "Well, me mum dabbled a bit. Myself? Never seen much point in all that nonsense." His smile dropped away. "We all right?"

Will nodded. "Yes, Jack. We're good."

* * *  
James opened his eyes and blinked confusedly at the unfamiliar roof over his head. He didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten here. His head was muzzy and heavy, eyelashes sticky, vision cloudy.

A loud snore cut through silent air.

He stiffened, muscles tightening painfully. Then memory washed back over him in a tar-black wave.

James struggled to sit up. Turned. Jack was splayed out on his back, arms and legs askew. The blankets were tangled around his legs, his mouth was open and he snored softly.

Arm heavy, James smacked him.

Jack came awake with a shout. "What are... Don't..." He blinked. Eyes focused on James's face. "Jamie. What?"

"You drugged me?"

"You needed sleep."

He was trembling with rage, throat stopped up. "Do not ever do that again. I can't... Don't..."

"Shh, love," Jack soothed. "It's all right."

James found himself engulfed in Jack's arms. He clung desperately to his anger, but found it giving way to a myriad of other things he'd rather not feel: grief and fear and helplessness. And Jack's hands were stroking his back, soothing, his voice assuring him it would all be all right. And his child was back in Port Royal, held captive by a ruthless man and he...

Something inside him snapped. To his horror, James found tears pressing against his shut tight eyelids, demanding to get out. His head was still heavy, and even though he knew where he was, he felt disoriented. Despite the sleep, he was exhausted. He had no defenses, and Jack kept soothing him like a child.

He couldn't stop the trembling. He couldn't stop the small gasps for air. Couldn't stop the tears from breaking through and rolling down his face, falling onto Jack's skin.

James felt dizzy. For months he had done nothing but dream of his child. Of being reunited with him. Of hearing Gavin laugh, seeing those pudgy hands reaching for him. He’d longed to see that small, beautiful face as he'd longed for nothing before, and when it finally happened....

It seemed forever before James was able to pull himself together. The tears abated, but the terrible emptiness and clawing pain within him did not. Still, he moved away from Jack, face aflame, unable to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, using a corner of the blankets to wipe away the evidence of his weakness.

"Nothing to apologize for, love."

He rolled his eyes. Sniffed and dropped the blanket.

"James, what you've gone through is more than any man should have to. Cutler Beckett is a monster, and he's hurt your own heart. 'Tis not unexpected you'd react thus."

"I'm a man. One of honor. I cannot afford..."

"Here you can, love." Jack placed his hand on James's knee. Squeezed. "Here, with me, you can afford anything."

He sniffed again. Dared to raise his eyes to Jack's. "How... What..." He pressed his lips together. Shook his head. "I hardly know what question to ask first."

Jack studied him a moment before nodding. He rose from the bed and rummaged through a pile of clothes on the floor. A moment later, he produced the wretched compass.

"Here." Jack placed the compass in James's hand. "Here is the prize that Cutler desires so greatly."

"A compass that doesn't work."

"It works, James." He covered James's hands with his own. "Think. What is it you desire most in this world?"

"Gavin."

"Hold his image in your mind. Hold that thought." Nimble fingers pulled away, opening the lid of the compass as they did.

It twirled dizzyingly, failing as always to find north. James was about to express his disgust with the entire proceeding when the needle stopped suddenly. Pointed south-east, towards...

"What on Earth?"

"It points to that which you most desire. 'Tis how I was able to track the Pearl as she traveled to the Isle de los Muerta. 'Tis how I will always be able to find you."

James glanced up. His eyes met Jack's and his cheeks warmed.

Jack offered him a small quirk of a smile. Leaned forward and brushed his mouth over James's . Pressed again, mouth open, clinging. A touch of tongue, then Jack pulled away.

The world settled itself more firmly under James. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. With his free hand, he reached for Jack's hand. He shut the compass with the other. "What is, I wonder, that Beckett most desires?"

"Power," Jack replied without hesitation, causing James's eyes to snap open. "It's the only thing he cares about, if anything. Only thing he knows how to pursue."

"You can't find power with a compass."

Jack shook his head. "No. I don't know what he's after, in the particular. Only in the abstract. That, as ever, remains the same."

"What is your relationship with this man?" James asked, the question that had been burning in him since first meeting Beckett voiced at last.

And Jack....

The look on Jack's face told him enough. The closed eyes, the tightly pressed mouth. A man forcing himself to remain in the image he'd rebuilt upon devastation.

He felt as if he would be ill. "Jack..."

Jack pulled away and sat, back pressed against the hull. He pulled his knees up and braced his arms over them, closing himself off. “Now keep in mind, I usually leave it to those such as Gibbs to spin my yarns and keep the legend going. This one, though.” He shook his head. “I met Cutler when I worked for the East India Trading Company.”

James made a noise in his throat and got a glint of a smile from Jack in return.

“Aye. I was not always as completely disreputable as you now see me. There was a time, however brief, I sought to make an honest man of myself. I ran away from a life of piracy and worked. And quite faithfully. I was good at what I did, and they made me first mate of a merchant vessel. One of our trips was to escort Cutler Beckett to West Africa, where he was to be director.

“He was… driven. Young and hungry. He wanted power and he knew how to get it. Knew exactly what to say to a man to get them to open up and spill their secrets. I watched him do it to the captain. How he’d ask seemingly innocuous questions, but the answers would build and build until everything was laid bare. I knew. And I let him do it to me. We shared a passion you see, for treasure. Not just any treasure, but ancient legends and mythical treasures. He had a vast library on the subject, and I a vast working knowledge. We spent hours talking, discussing what we knew, comparing stories, and speculating what was out there. He had a collection of rare objects. Once he was established in his post, he even showed me some of it.

“Now, my tastes have always run to things that glitter and shine. I wouldn’t turn my nose up at something that gave me eternal youth or a life free from sickness and hurt, but that’s not why I seek treasure of myth and legend. Cutler, however, wants the power of the gods. Youth. Immortality. Power. Especially the last. I thought it was talk. Oh, it was clear he knew how to gain material power, what with being a veritable vault of secrets he’d stolen from others to be traded as needed. But the rest, his speculations on how to take a man’s power and make it one’s own, I thought was talk.

Jack paused and rubbed his thumb over the brand on his wrist. “It wasn’t. In West Africa, he did things. Well, not him. Found a lackey, he did. Name of Mercer.” He shuddered. “A more unholy union was never formed. See, Cutler speculates, but has no stomach for blood and guts and the like. Well. He has no problem watching it, but he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. Mercer does. So, Cutler began looking at all the dark, forbidden ways to get power. To absorb it from another human being or steal it away. Mercer did the wet work, and Cutler supervised.”

“Supervised what?”

“Dark magic. Cannibalism. Disembowelment. All the nastiest stuff from the darkest most depraved parts of humanity.” Jack bit his nail. “Don’t know how he kept it a secret from his superiors. Was known, hush, hush, to the common folk. Got a bit of a reputation with the natives. But amongst men of class, there was nary a suspicion. Or, if there was, Cutler silenced it. 

“About a year or so after he took his new position, Cutler gifted me with a ship and a captaincy. My dream. And the ship was beautiful. Fell in love with her at first sight. Would have done anything for her, and Cutler knew it. He gave me work, I did it well, until, finally, he decided that I was the man for a very special assignment. He wanted me to find the lost island of Kerma and bring him the bearings.”

“There is no…”

“Been there, love.” Jack smiled at him, a flat, empty smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Met the people, had many an adventure with them. And, knowing Cutler would only enslave the people and destroy the island, I kept it secret. His response was to order me to deliver a ship of slaves to his patron in the Caribbean. He put them in the hold of my ship and ordered me…” He broke off with a sharp shake of his head. “I don’t hold with slavery. Bad enough I worked for a company that was active in the slave trade, but I never… And he knew. He knew I wouldn’t, and he ordered me to. Loaded my ship while I was off, so when I returned, they were there. My ship.” His voice trembled with anger and he squeezed his fists to tightly his knuckles turned white.

James moved so he was sitting next to Jack. He didn’t reach out to him, but allowed their shoulders to touch. “What did you do?”

“The only thing I could. I set them free and stole the ship. I renamed her the Black Pearl and began my career as the best pirate what ever existed.”

“The worst pirate I’ve ever heard of, but do go on.” To soften his words, James took Jack’s hand and kissed the back.

Jack smiled, but it faded quickly and his eyes went distant. “I’m told he sent five ships after me. Then ten. They never found me. It was Mercer that finally did. He found me and brought me back. Stole my ship out from under me, threw me in the brig, and took me back to Cutler.” He swallowed. “Cutler had Mercer tie me to the mainmast. Then he lectured me on his life study. How he had learned everything he could about how to steal a man’s power. How to break him, make him weak. Destroy him. He told me how he had dreamt many a night of how mine was to be taken. What methods to torture me, how to best humiliate me. What would make the great Jack Sparrow break?

“He finally decided that torturing me on the deck of my true love would do it. He had me whipped and beaten. Mercer…” He stopped. Swallowed. Flashed a half smile. “But you don’t need to know all the particulars. Only that the deck was wet with my blood and I couldn’t move for the pain. Then he branded me. The plan was to end my humiliation by hanging me from the fort after witnessing the Pearl’s destruction. Got me there, but there was a man on my ship…” Jack bit his lip. “Clever man. And so brave. Risked his life to save me. Got me out and back on the Pearl and out of the waters. Away from Cutler.”

James threaded their fingers together. Squeezed Jack’s hand. “What happened to him?”

Jack’s eyes squeezed shut. “Four months later, Barbossa took the Pearl from me. Only one man stood up for me. Tried to stop it.” He stopped talking. Didn’t open his eyes, didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

“What was his name?” James asked finally.

“Robbie.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jack shook his head. “Cutler said he’d take my power. And he succeeded.”

“No.” James turned to Jack and squeezed his shoulder. “You were marooned on an island and escaped. You spent ten years marauding, making a name for yourself without your ship. You got the Pearl back. You killed Barbossa. You sent that damned crew to hell where they belonged. You avenged yourself. You are not without power. Cutler Beckett did not steal it from you.” He put his hand on Jack’s cheek and turned his face. “You’re the worst pirate I’ve ever heard of, Jack. But you are, without a doubt, the most amazing.”

Jack pressed his mouth to James’s. “The drugs are making you a mite loopy, mate. You’re talking nonsense.” He quickly kissed James again, then sat back. “He beat me once. Not again. He will not be keeping our son from us, I promise you that.”

James nodded. “What are we to do?”

A slow smile spread across Jack’s face. “What I do best, love. Spread discord and confusion until everything is topsy turvy, and then sneak out with what I wants.”

***

“It’s out of the question,” James said, shaking his head. “I cannot ask you…”

“You don’t have to ask us,” Grove interrupted. 

“We want to help you, Commodore,” Gillette said.

A wave of frustration rose in him. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. “By helping me, you will be throwing your careers away. All of you.” He looked around at the crew assembled on the deck, meeting several men’s eyes. “You have families. Lives. By helping me, you are forsaking them, turning pirate. And I cannot allow you to do that for me.”

“But…”

“No.” He looked back at Groves and smiled sadly. “I cannot have this on my conscience. A man or two is one thing. The entire crew is another.”

Groves sighed. Rubbed his forehead and then nodded. “Very well, Commodore… James. What would you have us to, then?”

James straightened his shoulders and looked around the ship. “When I defected, I disabled the rudder. It will take you a few days to repair it. We only need a few days head start.”

He nodded. “We can give you that. And my I say, sir, it has been an honor to serve with you.”

“As it has with you.” He held out his hand.

Groves took it in a firm handshake. When he released it, Gillette took it, pumping James’s hand almost desperately.

“I will never forget you, sir,” he said, face turning red. “You have been the best man I’ve served under. No one will match you for honor and dignity.”

“Thank you, Gillette. You were one of the finest I’ve served with. Take care of yourself.”

He puffed up with pride. “I will, sir.” He dropped Norrington’s hand and stepped back.

James looked around the deck of the Dauntless, at the men standing there. A lump came to his throat, but he swallowed it back. “I could have asked for no better crew. You are the pride of the English Navy. I know you will continue to serve your country well. Thank you. Thank you for your service.” He nodded and turned, walking across the deck to return to the Pearl.

“Company, salute!” Grove snapped.

He heard a soft whoosh of air and turned.

Behind him, ever man saluted, looking strong and proud.

He knew he would carry that image with him for a long time to come.

“So,” Jack drawled when James returned to his side on the Pearl. He stood at the stern of the ship, next to Will, arms tightly crossed over his chest. “Now that you have dismissed our only ally, how do you propose we enact the rescue of the captives?”

“We don’t need two ships to save three people.” He settled against the gunwale next to Jack and squinted at the setting sun. “As long as we have the Pearl to get us away, we should be able to get them out ourselves.”

“How will we get to Port Royal?” asked Will.

He thought a moment. “There’s a small cove about ten miles south of town. It’s secluded, somewhat off the road, and rarely used. I say, the Pearl waits there and the three of us make our way to town. We find out where they’re being kept, get them out, and flee.”

“That’s a terrible plan,” Jack said. “But it might work.”

“How will we find out where they’re being kept?” asked Will.

“The compass. If it points to what you want most, then it should point to Gavin if either of us holds it. We go in armed and ready to kill whoever stands in our way,” James said. 

Will nodded. “We need to get a sword to Elizabeth as soon as we can. She’s almost as good as I am, and it will even the odds.”

“Unless he’s keeping them at the fort, I doubt we’ll have to face the entire contingent.” James rubbed his face. “I think I’ll grow a beard. As somewhat of a disguise.” 

“I’d like to see you scruffy,” Jack said with a lascivious smile.

Will blushed. “Yes, well. That’s probably a good idea. We’ll need a wagon or some sort of transport. We can’t expect Mariah to walk ten miles, especially with a baby in tow.”

“I know where we can secure one. He’s a good man, and I’ve no doubt he will help us, even with Beckett.”

Jack pulled away. “I’ll go set course, then, and tell the crew.”

“Thank you, Jack,” James said.

Jack brushed his hand against James’s as he went by, but did not answer. 

When he was gone, James turned and squeezed the gunwale so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Worried?” Will asked.

“Of course. It’s a terrible plan, but it’s all we have. And I can’t stop thinking about Gavin.”

“I understand. I’m the same way. I know Elizabeth can handle herself, but I can’t help but be worried.”

“Afraid of what might happen to her?” James asked. 

Will tilted his head back and forth. “And afraid she might do something rash.” He shrugged and gave James a half smile. “She might get bored and decide we’re taking too long. I’ve no doubt that she could take on the entire garrison and win, for she is just mad enough to pull it off.”

“We might be rushing back to a rescue that’s already happened, in other words.”

“Perhaps. But I’m sure she won’t do anything that will put Gavin at risk.”

James shook his head. Tightened his grip. “I told her I trusted her with their lives. If she can do it, I hope she does. I’d rather a useless rescue attempt than a failed one.”

“We won’t fail. Jack is mad enough to pull it off.”

His lips twitched. “He is at that.” He turned his head and looked at Jack, who now stood, talking to his assembled crew. 

“James, I don’t want to pry, but…” Will trailed off.

He heaved a sigh. “I suppose I owe you and Elizabeth an explanation.”

“No. What’s between you and Jack in your personal business.” He hesitated. “Only… he is my friend. And you…”

“Aren’t?” James finished for him. “Are you former rival? Am an enduring nuisance?”

“Not at all. You’re my friend, too,” Will hastened to assure him. He shrugged. “It’s just you tried to have Jack hanged.”

“It wasn’t personal.”

“Was it not?” Will’s voice was exquisitely dry.

James’s face warmed. “I suppose perhaps it was somewhat personal. But he does needle one so. And, I think I wanted him out of the way precisely because he drew me. I couldn’t have that, couldn’t risk my position or my…” He stopped and shrugged, looking at Will whose face was a dull red.

“Did you let him escape?”

He was silent, thinking back to that moment on the parapet just after Jack had fallen. When he’d seen that Jack had survived the fall, he’d felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of relief. But it’d quickly been followed by a paralyzing indecision, a dread, knowing his duty and not wanting to carry it through.

The governor’s suggestion that perhaps, in extreme times, and act of piracy might be warranted had eased his conscience somewhat. He’d flippantly said something about a day’s head start, but had never followed through. There’d been other matters to attend to: repairing the town after the Pearl’s attack, hanging criminals, dealing with the loss of the Interceptor. And there’d been other pirates to pursue. He hadn’t made chasing Jack a priority and had felt justified that decision.

“Not exactly,” he finally answered. “But my heart wasn’t as into the chase as it should have been.”

Will nodded. He looked away. “And the nature of your relationship is... consensual?” 

It was like being hit by a bolt of lightning. His spine stiffened and he dropped his grip on the gunwale, turning to face Will. “Of course,” he said, voice crisp. “Why? Do you think me a man who would take advantage of a prisoner? Who would force…”

“Never.” Will’s reply was swift and decisive. “You are a man of honor.”

“So,” he said, confused. “You think Jack…”

“No. I don’t think him capable either.”

Now James was perplexed. If Will didn’t think either James or Jack was capable of raping the other, then what on earth were they discussing? “So… why…”

Wi shook his head, looking bewildered. “One hears things. One draws conclusions. I don’t… I’ve only experienced….”

“What?” James asked sharply. “What have you experienced?”

“No. Nothing. A man who tried when I was young. The ones who protected me told me only men who were wrong would do that.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Only men who are wrong would try with a child. Or try with the unwilling. So, you think Jack and I are wrong, then?”

Will shook his head. “I think you the best of men, James. I am… adjusting my thinking. Besides,” he added. “Many men do wrong to women, too, and that doesn’t make all who favor women wrong.” He sighed and leaned against the gunwale. “But he has not bewitched you?”

“Who, Jack?”

Will nodded.

James laughed, which startled him. He had not thought himself capable. “Sometimes it feels that way. But, no. I think it’s just ordinary…” He stopped, not wanting to reveal so much of himself, not even to his friend.

There was silence a moment. Then Will said, “What will you do after we rescue them?”

Feeling helpless, James shook his head. “Start over.”

“Turn pirate?”

“It may be my only option.” He laughed again, only now it was empty and hollow. “I never thought….”

“I doubt many do.”

James nodded. “You know, Jack once ran from piracy to be a respectable man?”

“No. Jack?”

“He became a merchant,” James said with a smile. He still couldn’t quite picture it. “Beckett drove him back to piracy.”

“I’m sure Beckett is responsible for a great many men going rogue.”

James snorted. “One only needs to look at me to see that.”

“James, we’ll get them back. All will be well. Jack will see to that.”

“If only I had your faith.”

Will put his hand on James’s shoulder. “He loves you and he loves Gavin. He will displace heaven and earth to see you and him safe.”

His face warmed, hearing those words. He and Jack had made no declarations to one another, but Jack kept risking so much to come back to him. James had no doubt of Jack’s feelings to Gavin; one only needed to see the pirate with the child to see his feelings plain a day. But toward James… it was too great a thing to even contemplate.

Flustered and unable to answer, James pat Will’s hand, then pulled away to go down below.

In his cabin, Jack was sitting at his desk. He had a piece of caracole in his hands, darkening his fingers. He moved his hand in small, even movement, sketching something out on a piece of paper before him.

James came around behind Jack and looked down at the paper. 

Gavin gazed up off the page. His face was raised, looking with delight at something just above him. His hands reached out. He looked as he must have while James was gone, so big and solid and aware of what was happening around him.

“It’s a good likeness.” He wrapped his arms around Jack from behind and leaned over him.

Jack set down his pen and leaned back against James. “He’s a strong lad. He’ll survive this.”

“But you’re worried.”

“I worry any moment I’ve not got my eyes on him.”

He pressed a kiss to Jack’s head. “Me too.”

Jack took James’s hand and kissed it. “Don’t fret so, love. Right will win out in the end. Have faith.”

“I have faith in you, Jack. I do.” He released Jack and came around him, sitting on the desk, mindful of the picture. “But Beckett scares me. I don’t understand an enemy with so little…”

“Honor?”

“Humanity. I’m used to men with no honor. But even most pirates I’ve met… they draw the line at children. Infants.”

“Cutler is his own special brand of monster. But I don’t think he’d kill a baby. Not outright.”

“Outright isn’t my fear.”

“Like I said before, if Cutler said he’d move them to cleaner quarters, he will. He’s not without sense, at least.” He stood and moved so he stood between James’s legs. Leaned forward and kissed James. 

He kissed Jack back, desperately. He clutched at Jack’s shirt, tugging him closer. Heat raced down his spine, pooled in his groin. “Help me forget awhile?” he whispered against Jack’s mouth.

Jack threaded his fingers though James’s hair. He slid James’s coat from his shoulders and then tugged at his shirt.

James shook off the coat and lifted his arms, allowing Jack to strip him of his shirt. Jack immediately attached his mouth to James’s neck, sucking and biting along the muscle. Warm tingles spread out from the line Jack worked down. 

James gasped, head falling back. His hands clutched at Jack’s shoulders.

Jack kissed his way down James’s chest. His deft hands unlaced breeches and pushed them down. He swallowed down James’s hard cock.

James groaned. His hands came to rest on Jack’s head, and he tried not to push, tried not to grab. Jack’s mouth was wet and warm and his tongue worked along the underside with strong, sure caresses. His hand wrapped around the base, stroking. James’s stomach twisted with pleasure. It raced along his spine, suffusing him.

“Jack,” he gasped as Jack pulled back.

“Shh, love.” Jack pushed back James’s foreskin and licked the head of his cock over and over again.

His hands tightened.

“Easy on the goods,” Jack purred before swallowing him down again. This time, he took James in further, almost to the back of his throat. He hummed and swallowed around James, slurping as he sucked.

James’s knees turned to water. He braced himself on the desk, groin hot and throbbing. “Jack,” he choked out just before he came.

Jack swallowed around him, swallowing him down, fingers digging into James’s hips. When he pulled back, his eyes were bright and cheeks flushed. “Better?” he asked.

James grabbed him by the vest and hauled him up. He kissed Jack, sucking at his lower lip before releasing it and plunging his tongue inside to entwine with Jack. “Better,” he panted, pawing at Jack’s clothes.

Stumbling, they make their way to the bed. Jack stripped, throwing his clothes around without care. James hit the bed and fell, pulling Jack on top. 

“Do you have anything?” he asked, wrapping his legs around Jack. “I want to feel you in me.”

“Wait a tick.” Jack pulled away and went to the chest at the foot of the bed. He opened it and dug through it before unearthing a bottle. When he came back, his fingers were warm and slick, and he slid into James.

He twisted his hips, biting his lower lip at the intrusion. They usually did this the other way, but he was desperate tonight for distraction. Desperate for connection.

Desperate for Jack.

Jack was careful and methodical, working his fingers in James until he was relaxed and pliant. 

“Now, Jack,” James gasped, hip rising to meet Jack’s thrusts. “I’m ready.”

Jack nodded. Sliding his hand out of James, he rubbed the oil on his cock before lining himself up with James’s entrance.

“Oh, God,” James groaned as Jack sunk inside him. He arched his back, fingers digging into the bedclothes. He wrapped his legs around Jack’s waist. His head swum and his cock twitched at the feel of Jack inside him.

“That’s it, Jamie,” Jack panted. He thrust slowly, moving all the way in before pulling almost all the way out. “You feel good, love.”

“Harder, Jack.”

Teeth glinted in the moonlight. “Don’t want to break you.”

“Not that fragile.”

He moved faster, with more purpose. “No. You’re not.” He lowered himself over James and kissed him before pressing their foreheads together.

They moved together like a wave. James tightened his legs around Jack, pulling him close. They panted together, pleasure moving through them, connecting them, binding them.

Words pressed against James’s tongue, but he swallowed them back. He felt too raw, too open right now. He couldn’t say something so real. He’d wound himself. So he just slid his hands up Jack’s arms and clutched at him, holding him tight, willing him to feel what James felt.

The mattress shifted as Jack thrust with more power. James groaned, fire racing through him. His cock hardened once more as Jack’s cock dragged across that spot inside him, sparking pleasure. Faster and harder and soon, all that existed was Jack and his body and his cock inside James.

Finally, Jack stiffened. He threw his head back as he came, mouth falling open in a silent scream. He kept moving through his orgasm, drawing pleasure through James, rubbing against his engorged cock until, finally, James came, shuddering his completion. 

Breathing heavily, Jack pulled out and flopped beside James. He draped his arm across James’s chest and buried his face in his neck.

James stroked Jack’s arm. His mind was blissfully empty and he floated on the aftermath of pleasure. A sated sleepiness floated over him, and he yawned, eyes falling shut.

Jack lifted his head. Gently, he pressed a kiss to James’s forehead and snuggled against him. “Sleep, Jamie,” he whispered. “Don’t think of our troubles tonight. Just sleep.”

He tightened his grip on Jack’s arm and then followed his instructions, sliding into a peaceful sleep.

*** 

It took just over a week to sail back to Port Royal. A week of agony. Every day was a new, special form of torture for James. Despite Jack’s assurances, he couldn’t help but imagine Gavin in that filthy prison cell, Mariah having to stop him from putting rocks and dirt in his mouth. He imagined sores growing on Gavin’s skin from the filth that accumulated on him, of him growing weak and listless with no sunlight and no entertainment. He imagined the indignities that Mariah and Elizabeth were forced to suffer, sharing space with depraved men. They’d been in their own cell, but that wouldn’t stop taunts and suggestions or the vulgarity men could hurl at a woman.

It was, perhaps, the longest week of his entire life.

But finally—finally—the Pearl sailed into the cove. It was, as always, deserted and silent, the perfect hiding place.

“We’ll be back tomorrow morning,” Jack had told his crew. “Perhaps sooner, perhaps later. You will stay and wait for us.”

“At what point should we give up the ghost and keep to the code?” Gibbs asked.

Jack flashed his teeth. “If we are not back by sunset tomorrow, you may consider us a loss and condemn us to our fate. Is that acceptable?”

Gibbs had the decency to look ashamed for asking, but he nodded. With that settled, James, Jack, and Will had departed

It’d been a long walk, especially weighed down by pistols and swords as they were. They set off midmorning and reached the town near sunset. They were cautious upon entrance, but there seemed to be no more guards or soldiers milling about the street than usual. Beckett hadn’t initiated martial law or anything like that, it seemed. He probably didn’t expect a rescue attempt, figuring that James would be sensible and do his duty to save his son. 

Little did he know.

They were able to secure a horse and wagon from the man James knew. It would be waiting for them come midnight at the edge of town, when, should fortune favor them, they’d enact their rescue. After that matter was settled, the trio retreated to the smithy, which stood empty.

“You should take what you need,” James had said to Will as they waited. “You won’t be able to come back.”

Will had nodded and swiftly packed some clothes and weapons. He took them to the wagon and returned.

James wished he could do the same. He wasn’t a man prone to collecting many material belongings, but he had some that he wished he could take with him. Books, mostly, but a few mementos of his travels and fewer things from his childhood. All he was taking with him was his sword and the baubles that Jack had left behind on his visits, which went with James wherever he went.

But he’d have Gavin, his most important treasure. That would be enough.

It was a long wait, but finally midnight approached. Armed with pistols and swords, the three made their through the darkened streets of Port Royal. Jack’s compass led them through the town, pointing to their hearts’ desire. Finally, they came to the governor’s mansion.

“They must be here,” James whispered as they took refuge in the shadows across the street.

“Aye,” Jack agreed. “There’s nowhere finer in town for Beckett to stay. Nor safer. They’re inside.”

“I’ll go round,” Will said. “Survey the scene.”

They waited in tense silence for him to return, watching the house narrowly. There were two lights shining, one from the Governor’s office and one from a bedroom. James didn’t know the house well enough to know to whom the bedroom normally belonged, but his hope caused him to believe that Gavin was inside that room.

Will returned about ten minutes later. “There’s no guard posted outside,” he said. “The house is dark in back. Only those two lights shine.”

“It seems Cutler isn’t expecting us,” Jack said. “That will work to our advantage.”

James said nothing. He didn’t trust the quiet of the house. It might look peaceful, but inside were prisoners. Inside was his son. Despite the lack of visible guards, there would be some inside.

He tightened his grip around his pistol and tried to calm his pounding heart.

The light in the bedroom winked out.

“James?” Jack whispered.

“Let’s go,” he said. He rose and made his way across the street.

The back door opened easily and soundlessly. Inside, there was a guard, dressed in an East India Trading company uniform. He was in the process of lifting his musket as the door opened, but James shot him through the heart before he was able to finish.

“They’ll know we’re here, now,” Will said. 

A moment later, there was noise on the stairs. Five men came rushing down, swords drawn. Jack shot one. James met the next, sword drawn. They clashed, and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Will grappling with two men. Swords flashed, clanging together. The man James fought was strong, but not skilled. He relied on brute forced, driving James back.

But James had skill. He might not be the whirling dervish that Will was, who moved so quickly one almost could not see his sword, but James knew how to handle himself in a fight. He parried and thrust and feinted and finally found an opening. Driving forward, he thrust his sword into the man’s heart, felling him.

A gun went off, startling him as he withdrew his sword. He turned to see another man, in the process of lunging at him, fall, eyes wide. When he fell, he revealed Jack, who stood there with a smoking pistol.

“Keep your eyes open, mate,” he advised.

“Apparently, I’ve you for that. I thank you.”

Will wiped a splash of blood from his cheek and pulled his sword from his enemy. “Let’s go before there are more.”

“Upstairs.” James stepped over the slain men and jogged up the stairs.

One man stood outside the door to the far bedroom. With a roar, he drew his sword and rushed at James. He was better than the man downstairs, but not used to fighting in close quarters. He swung his sword too widely, catching at the walls and the doors. James dispatched him quickly and ran to the last room. He could make out the sounds of a struggle inside. His palms were slick as he fumbled at the door knob, but he managed to throw it open.

“Elizabeth, no!” Mariah shouted.

James flinched back as Elizabeth slashed at him with a sword. She just missed cutting across his face , checking her swing just in time.

“James. Will!”

Will pushed past James and embraced his wife, who stood over an unconscious man. “Are you all right?”

“We’re fine. But Gavin’s not here.” She pulled away from Will and leaned down to take the pistol from the guard. “Beckett takes him at night.”

“Takes him where?”

“Oh, not far, Mister Norrington,” the hateful voice drawled.

James stepped back into the hallway and turned.

Beckett stood at the end of the hall. In his arms, he held Gavin, who was awake but silent, looking around him with a sort of fear on his face that made James sick to see. Behind him stood a man with a weathered, craggy face. That man held both a gun and a sword. From the way Jack stiffened, James assumed the man was Mercer.

“I see your mission was successful. You found Jack Sparrow. Now all you need do is turn over the compass, and this has all been but a bad dream.”

“Give me my son.” James lifted his sword and stepped forward.

“Give me what I want.”

James shook his head. “You’re out numbered, Beckett. Will Turner is the best swordsman I’ve ever seen. Elizabeth isn’t far behind. I’m not bad myself. We can take you and your man.”

“How will you take me while I have your son?”

“You’d use a baby as a shield?”

He smiled. “It works.” His eyes slid from James to Jack. “Hello, Jack.”

“Cutler.”

“Not that I’ve ever known you to be so, but perhaps, for a moment, you could be reasonable. What I want is so simple.”

“What you want has never been simple, Cutler. I give you the compass, and it won’t end. I know you. I know better.”

“I’m a man of my word. Give me the compass, and I’ll let you all walk away. Don’t, and…” He wrapped his hand around Gavin’s neck. Squeezed.

The baby gave a distressed choking sound.

“Don’t!” James and Jack spoke together, surging forward.

Beckett stepped back and allowed Mercer to step in front of him.

“The compass.”

Gavin made that horrible noise again.

“All right!” James shouted. He lowered his sword, feeling helpless and defeated. He looked to Jack, throat tight. “Please,” he begged. 

“James…”

“I know. I know what he’ll do with it. I know we can’t trust him. I know….”

Gavin coughed. Gasped for breath. Let out a little cry.

And Jack broke. The expression on his face shattered and he dropped his sword. “Stop, Cutler. Just…” With trembling hands, he reached to his belt where the compass hung. Fumbled with the strings that held it and pulled it off. “Here. It’s yours.”

“Give it to Mercer.”

“Gavin first.”

“No.”

Jack swallowed hard. Visibly shaking, he stepped forward, compass outstretched. His lips were pressed together and his eyes were wide and frightened as he looked at Gavin, who was turning an alarming shade of red as he struggled to breathe.

Mercer holstered his pistol. He took the compass from Jack and turned to Beckett.

Beckett dropped his hand from around Gavin’s neck as he took the compass. After a few coughs and gasping breaths, Gavin let out a weak cry.

But he cried.

James’s knees went weak with relief. He sheathed his sword stepped closer to Beckett, arms outstretched. “My son.”

Without looking at James, he opened the compass and watched as the needle spun around dizzily. When it came to a stop, his smile deepened and he snapped the compass closed. He looked at James, and then down at Gavin.

“I knew he’d be an encouragement, but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine how effective he would be.”

“Give me my son.”

With a roll of his eyes, he passed Gavin over to James.

Jack was immediately at James’s side, both of them caressing and petting the wailing Gavin, whose screams were getting louder and louder by the moment.

“He’s all right,” Jack said, stroking down Gavin’s arm. “He’ll be fine.”

“I told you I would not harm him as long as you complied,” Beckett said. “As long as you…” There was a loud thunk and his voice cut off abruptly.

“Father!” Elizabeth shouted as James’s head snapped up.

Standing just behind Beckett’s fallen body was the Governor. He had a marble bust in his hands and was staring down at Beckett through wide eyes.

Mercer growled.

“Move!” 

James and Jack pulled apart, both slamming against opposite walls at Elizabeth’s order. A gunshot sounded, setting off a shriek from Gavin.

Mercer fell.

“Father, are you all right?” Elizabeth demanded. She dropped the pistol and rushed down the hall, stepping over bodies as if she did it every day. Once at her father, she threw her arms around him.

He dropped the bust on the floor and wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, Elizabeth, I’m so glad you’re all right. I’ve been so worried, but that madman wouldn’t….”

“I know, Father.” She pulled back. “Thank you.”

He caressed her face, gazing at her fondly. “Anything.” He looked up at James. “You should go. All of you.”

“Will you come with us?”

Governor Swann shook his head. “Someone needs to make sure Beckett pays for what he did.” 

Beckett stirred.

“Go.”

Elizabeth kissed her father on the cheek. “I love you.”

“And I you, my darling girl. Now go.”

“I’ll take him,” Mariah said, coming up beside James.

He clutched at Gavin, reluctant to give him up, but realized he was being unreasonable. He kissed Gavin swiftly, then handed him over to Mariah. “Thank you,” he said.

“Thank you for the rescue.”

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Will pointed out. “We need to go.”

James nodded and drew his sword. “Get your compass, Jack.”

Jack nodded , went to where Beckett lay, and took the compass. Then, together, they all fled into the night.

***  
They made it to the wagon without trouble. After piling in, they took off, crashing through the night to the rendezvous point. 

“Are you all right?” James asked once they were well on their way. 

Jack drove the wagon. Will and Elizabeth sat huddled together whispering, their hands entwined. 

James settled beside Mariah, who had Gavin in her lap.

“I’m fine, James,” she said, sounding weary. “Beckett treated us well. We had food, comfort. He even provided us with books and needlepoint. We were quite comfortable.”

“And no one… importuned you? Or Elizabeth?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Beckett was… well. He was not a gentleman. But he did nothing untoward. The guards were well behaved as well. If anything, they seemed to feel sorry for us. Some of them talked. Just conversation.”

He took Gavin from her and held him close. “And Gavin was all right?”

“I think he’s starting to teethe, so he was crankier than usual. He cried a lot. But he had some toys and he had us.” She put her hand on his arm. “We were fine. I know you must have imagined tortures, but we were quite comfortable.”

He kissed Gavin and rubbed his back. “I’m glad to have you back. And I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“Stealing your life. When you agreed to nurse Gavin, I know you never imagined having to leave everything behind.”

She scoffed. “And you did?” She shook her head. “I love him, James. And I love you. I’m sad to leave behind Port Royal, but thanks to you, I have a family for the first time in years. And I still have that family.”

He smiled at her. Then he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, Mariah. For everything.”

***  
They made it to the cove just as the sun peeked over the horizon. The Pearl was still there, which almost surprised James. He’d half expected them to be gone, but was glad to see that they were loyal to Jack. He deserved a little loyalty.

Now, he and Jack were in the great cabin, stretched across the bed. Between them lay Gavin, who was sleepily trying to stuff his toes in his mouth. The Pearl was sailing to Cuba, where Jack planned to install James and his little family. 

“I think Elizabeth is ready to join your crew,” James said. He couldn’t stop touching Gavin, soft caresses on his cheeks, his feet, his hands. He still wasn’t quite convinced his was real. “She’s been ready to turn pirate since she was twelve years old.” He stroked his fingers down Gavin’s foot, getting a little snuff of laughter.

He was fine. James kept having to reassure himself of the fact, but Gavin was fine. He’d escaped his ordeal with nothing more than a few bruises on his neck from Beckett’s fingers.

James should have killed the man. He cursed himself for not stopping to and cursed the sense of honor that had kept him from even considering killing an unarmed, unconscious foe.

“She’s welcome. As is Will. As are you.”

He shook his head. “I can’t, Jack.”

“You’d make a good pirate.” Jack smiled. “I could use a sailor such as yourself. A strategist. Someone who knows the enemy.”

“Jack.”

Jack fell silent. He put his hand on Gavin’s stomach and watched it as it rose and fell. “Probably for the best. You’d do nothing but fret and worry, being away from Gavin for as long as we’d be. Least this way, there will be one of us around. But you’ll miss the sea.”

“Oh, yes.” He would. The sea was in his blood, and the idea of not being was unfathomable. He’d been at sea since he was eleven years old. And now, thanks to one madman, it was over. Unless he turned pirate, he was forever barred. 

“You’ll be by the sea, love. And always welcome for a jaunt on the Pearl.”

“It won’t be the same.”

Jack took James’s hand. Thread their fingers together and squeezed. “It will be worth it. He’s worth it.”

James smiled. “He is.” He looked up at Jack. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Taking care of Gavin. Taking care of me. Helping rescue him. Being willing to…” He swallowed, throat tight. “Being willing to give up your compass for him.”

Jack shrugged. “He’s my son. Never thought that would happen, but it seems as if it has. It’s not a burden I’d always feared it to be. It’s a freedom I never thought I had. And a duty I never thought I’d want. Couldn’t do anything but what I did.”

James reached out and took a lock of Jack’s hair between his fingers. “If he’s your son, what does that make me?”

“You’re my mate.”

A slow warmth ran through James. He could feel the blush on his face, and his stomach jumped. Mindful of Gavin, he leaned toward Jack and kissed him, gently and tenderly. “I think that is something I can live with,” he whispered against Jack’s mouth. “But,” he added, resting his forehead against Jack’s, “I am a jealous man.”

“As am I. And now that you won’t be locked away in Port Royal, you’ll be accessible. More readily. Which will give you nothing to worry about.”

He laughed and kissed Jack again. “The future is going to be interesting, isn’t it?”

“Jamie, my love, the future is always interesting. And our future will be doubly so.”

 

Fin


End file.
